Mordancy

Clueless as to what’s expected of me
I’m left thirsty for proof of the image
That my swaggering eyes mercilessly parade
Before my breathless mind
Proof of the unproven existence of you

We owe each other nothing, really,
Except to accept
Our separate and our linked destiny

Futility is still for cowards
Or so I once was told

Forgive me my last outlet

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