I am rooted in travesty,
a controversial move chosen too soon,
let die too far,
be too much.
Misinterpret words, men, when
an inner galactic system
before your eyes, becomes
my wayward sigh.
Moonlight dripping unto concrete
filling my mind with aligned perception,
organization, a blessing amidst such temptation,
a seduction of the free-formed spirit
diluted with fallacy and fact.
He goes by Joseph but he has no name.
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