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A piece of melody, so familiar
Goes round and round, Stuck in a loop Once lost, still not found. The words escape the mind; What remains, is just the sound. This yearning to fill The silence of void With wordless notes, Is so wickedly enjoyed By the forgetful mind That is truly self-annoyed. In the hope the song returns, One can’t think of anything else. It’s anything but enticing- This anticipation that dwells In the heart of seductive Remnants of incoherence. |
