Through the Static
My heart feels pain and cries out in kind
Thread it through
Who has the perspective
To say you and I call the same place home?
Each carrying our cage
We each dream outside it
To each their own, inside and out
But co-domains are necessarily dissimilar
So are we called guests or interlopers?
At the foundation of thought there is a fear
At the first spark of individual inspiration, a void
This fear is not that we are powerless
But are more powerful than we can imagine
It is ours, but it is also theirs
Let's syncopate the sadness
Thread it through
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