The song is dead.
There is only texture.
Layer of grainy image, blurred and overlayed.
Colour is dead.
There is only black, white and grey.
Clouds, roads, buildings from yesterday
Meaning is dead.
There is only a liminal space
Only hovering on the edge of things.
The future is dead.
There is only a chaos
Nothing planned, nothing dreamt.
We live in a dream.
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