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Fantasy, a tell-tale untold
Which we thought was a surreal dream,
A serendipity of the mind
And a gift, once was sought.
It was a palette of colors;
Vibrant, lenient and free
But all has lost, all has died.
Tainted on a fierce jealousy of reality.
Black and white with nothing to see.
And it’s flowing, overflowing,
A stream, forever unchanging
In the darkness of a sinful world.
