A week was all but wasted
Thought dominoes running wild
Of images and darkness
A state of mind beguiled
Obsessed with things imagined
Reality lost between the lines
Each step a heavy burden
Of why and hurtful lies
Silence, it was screaming
Inside the typhoon’s eye
Forgotten words of meaning
All scattered by the tide
Not bearing any reason
Being sucked into a drain
A voice of no regret
Too frightened to explain
To hear a song sung often
Brings the pendulum to rest
As if nothing ever happened
In a week of such tempest
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