How I hate this aura that clouds my soul
A feeling so deep it's like a black hole
Grips me powerfully from head to sole
Feeding upon me like fire on coal
A feeling so deep it's like a black hole
Grips me powerfully from head to sole
Feeding upon me like fire on coal
Sometimes the answer I think I've found
A key to lift me from this soiled ground
Suspect it not, the answer thought sound
For a while I find peace, the calm profound
And then "it" returns
Myself, it concerns
How long this term
Like a storm in churn
A day, I await, that'll brighten this slope
Or I'll be granted the power to cope
And rinse this away like dishwashing soap
It's the least of the things for which I hope
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