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I am by,
Myself again,
Waiting for,
The clock strike.

Talking to,
An empty thread,
A path that's made,
For frostbite.

Frozen drops,
Of morning dew,
A dark force,
That I can't fight.

If you came,
Around again,
Would ice thaw?
It just might.
But Time is a person made concept

— The End —