Delirium
Delirium Recurrent, these dreams. Weary, aching. Monologues devoid of solace, always unanswered. The way these walls, seem to mock my succumbing to, solitude, and the absence of principles. Delirium, a step towards that void, swallowing the ambitious vine, that crawls towards the chalky pocket, of light.
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frigid
"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no...
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