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Transit

My instrument, my voice
Distorted and unheard
A fountain of naked dismay
Like these tears from cold wind

Represents the void inside
Grows with an untamed pace
Rusting, like my forlorn ambition
Have I banned my medium

Zenith of anger suffices no longer
Frustration finds isolation
All these years, the same innate fears
Different scopes, same starvation


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