because it's what you want, isn't it?
my inner romantic wilts with the smoke
up into the sky, it drifts away
the future appears like a dull day
mundane and in vain, I live it
nothing keeping you here next to me
except for the air that slips through the spaces
I hate this, but my hope continues to revolve
like a gyre, it circles around
and around
and around
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