Electricity running through my veins in the morning.
I have entered a new realm of inspiration.
Lost in a land of past dreams and now I have escaped.
A pattern of gorgeous questions defining who I could be.
The ceiling could tell me what I said in my sleep.
Only the paper has it all written down.
Soft or harsh words scribbled down in eccentric poems.
I have no idea who I am because I have become too many.
I am a million souls locked up in this one emotion.
These words will help me understand this new realm.
For when the imagination flickers, so will the creation.
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