Event the thought that nothing is,
And one moment you can feel on top of the world,
Like it's made for you, as if,
It's only a projection of your mind,
And you mold it as you like,
Until you lose control and feel like a player,
In some god's game night.
And do you want this nuance to disappear?
Do you want to know it all?
Or feel like you do, I think some do,
It's called being fanatical.
So, it's alright,
If you're feeling as small as a pea.
That's the privilege of being human:
Knowing you won't always be.
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