Dystopia
Ever wondered as to why we maintain so many faces, As if in contingency to the day’s innumerable phases, The only thing we are saved, is from physically changing the mask, But that does not make it any simpler a
Mesmer
She is gone before your eyes can even blink, And yet she is the only thought you can think, You stumble upon everything, already in a trance, And become yet another slave of her glance. Every time you look around,