Pensieve

Siloma

Siloma

Happy soul ultra pro max!

Dead scorched bones of rust
Ill-mannered minds of lust
Rushing feet strangling with dust
Proud men thinking wealth’s a must
Lean pensievely on the rusted masts

Sadly am one of them
One who wanted money and fame
One who trampled the predators once tamed
One who felt unique, not the same
One who played on another level of game

While all is lost and am just a bot
When all I get is nothing of what I got
When my pain is burning and trouble is a lot
When suicide is all I sought
An old wrinkled man walks to my sight
And tells me Jesus should be my light

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