Aren’t we all lost,
burning the fuel of our dreams?
Fingers tickling skyscrapers,
blinded by zenith’s unattainability.
Affirming idealism to survive,
eluding Failure’s poignant bite.
Must illusion be so beautiful,
goading as it dissolves.
Bait relevance, reveal itself
and euthanize dying hope.
Bid farewell compass laws,
spinning heretical under Polaris.
Burning the fuel of our dreams,
aren’t we all lost?
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