Ode to bedlam fantasy lost its way
Trudge through resistance
Rows of deadwood patterns of yesterday
If there's any faith when morning comes
I'll take a message from above
A kneeling child along the road
Repeating verses from the olde
A bitter message from above
A bitter path I know
Can anybody face the unknown
A solitary place to go
Pressure mine
An existential zone to stimulate the tone
Insidious in frame
Ode to bedlam fantasy gone astray
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