a beat of nostalgia

a panicked lady in a leather jacket

she is holding a spear in one hand and in the other

a dice for every interluding dystopia she could submerge herself in

in a robotic voice she muttered “I’ve lost my map”

surfing down the alley chased by a black swan

a hazy reflection of an anonymous emotion

a quest for a higher ground

to paint the wrath in a mazy symphony

she is now snorkelling

a jaded animal longing for comfort

in a deserted place

a precarious relegation brings reassurance

to her spotted mind

for today

but she shall never lose her map again

and blame herself

for the unscrupulous thoughts

once buried inside a wooden horse

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