Strings of nothing


I feel like I’m winning this game called time
What a fool I am, no one ever wins
But a few lose and the rest just are
The spoils of war, a beautiful score

My arrow digs into the fabric of time
Absence makes the heart flow under
And my reflection is looking at me funny
Who are you and what have you done with me?

Reality might be a collective dream of shared consciousness
Or just manifestations of the secrets behind shear nothingness

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