Springtime is no more. Darkness takes over. We breathe, we weep–a ticking timebomb’s set. Some desperate hands grasp a gold offer So irresistible, wrapped ‘round the neck. Here we are, stuck in a recurring dream. And if you thought we’ve woken up, perhaps, All along, we’ve gently gone down a stream. Cheers to life full of scraps, traps, and mishaps. Now, look around and tell me what you see. Besides the burning labyrinth bridges,
