#1984-Otherwise

The sky burns,

Yet it feels cold.

Confusing wishes,

Truth be told.

I know reality,

Resides elsewhere.

Perhaps over that hill.

But it’s out of reach.

At least,

That’s how it seems.

So for now,

I can do nothing,

But let coldness,

And confusion be.

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#1985-Innate

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#1983-Comfort