A Synthetic Soul

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Perhaps your thoughts are blinking like your vision,
Not really seeing what you believe in.
The black and grey, they lead us to our misdirected ways.
Realize the locks impede us from opening the doors that
lead us back to familiar places.
Realize that our lives have changed
and that some moments and memories are just like locks..

Holding the golden key doesn't pave a way.
All along the corridors and hallways of ambiguity
some locks are never meant to be reopened.
Keys sometimes only fit once.
Some things stand vague, dimly lit and casting shadows,
Thresholds exist that never get crossed.
Curiosity lingers an entire lifetime.

In the back of your mind at times
you may find yourself Wondering...
What if that door had not been locked?
What if the grey and black had not
replaced all the colors I forgot?
Where did the key I held really Fit?
How might it have changed this life I've lived?

Opening and closing.
One foot in step, right in front of the other.
Finding maybe it's just better that time fades what I remember.




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