A beautiful idea,a useless feeling,
A pretty picture,a crappy meaning.
What cannot manifest into much,
we keep out of rational touch.
Love is an art,no absolution,
an abstract one,little logic and laws.
A smell might linger too long in memory,
a sigh might forever hinder you from moving.
Stillness and sound,they seem the same,
but the chalk dust line dividing it?
It drives us beyond insane.
We wait and we wait,all delusion awaits.
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