stuck pedestal
i count on fate
on hope
on a sky vast enough to see me
a sky that always sees me
is it getting too beautiful
it is
the road still has robed thugs
these robed thugs have taken so much
but they havent taken
the rhythm of my pulse
it still creates a sound
dum dum dum
its beating
so what is this drama
this is a beautiful drama
fate doesnt present itself in a platter
but we become fillers of cracks
livers of cracks
a shot or two
only leads to another shot or two
that be it
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