Bring to the table what makes full the mind.
The progression of doubt spread over our eyes.
Full is our glass of greed and advancement
Pass the salt, the one for our wounds
Romantic gluttony shaded in darkness
However accented by light
In darkest night even the smallest light makes it more appealing.
Save me
Save me from what I cant see
What I assume is my reality
Ant I cant see past what I assume.
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