Nostalgic Forecast
I walk ablaze in a whirlwind dream
unable to focus on inner mayhem,
Words unravel into tangled webs,
sustain a sense of still-born fear.
Well within the spring inside,
feelings, notions roar.
I wish to sever heart from mind,
and pass through that dark door.
Silence fills a stark-white room
with nothing but remembrance.
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