bound

Those wide eyes can, for sure,
Cast a spell strong on you.
And that voice,
Cute it is for sure,
But what makes you follow it.
Wanting to hate it,
You will still love its muse.
You want, in sense, to cast it off,
You sense, after all, being cast off.
Whether or not it is,
You feel it's lying to you.
Still deep in, you fell for it.
In the spell, which always is,
Ink always is those eyes,
And with strings is that chime.
In that spell, which always is,
Logic is what you boast for,
And that, you don't posses.
Far I go, as wide are the eyes.
Deep I go, as rings the chime.

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