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Jan 2016
Much like a slate that's been erased,
A darkened screen, black and empty,
A book with all its pages blanked,
Inside myself, I roam blindly

Within this void I call a mind,
The depth of which might be endless.
For what am I hoping to find?
Why I still search through this abyss

Seems futile since this fog is dense,
And it's not soon being lifted.
Why must I endure this penance?
For how long have I just drifted

Amongst shadows clouding all that
Resides in this cavernous pit?
I feel like a scurrying rat,
Yet I can't stop, I mustn't quit.

If I'm to escape this labyrinth,
Then I will not discontinue;
Why this mind of mine feels absent,
I'm sure to find some kind of clue

That could reveal the hidden truth
Behind this enigmatic veil.
I'll try to persist as this sleuth,
And keep following this ****** tale.

Perhaps its end will soon draw near,
I grow sick of chasing after
These leads of which I often hear
All ending with a disaster.

I yearn for the soonest moment
I can consider myself free.
After all this time I had spent,
All I'd want to finally see
Are the walls of this containment
Start to shatter all around me,
Putting an end to my lament:
 A glorious day, it would be.
John F Anderson  III
Written by
John F Anderson III  Zanesville, OH
(Zanesville, OH)   
237
   Tyler S Anderson
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