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Mar 2019
Comforted by broken symbols and lost signs

Not even sure how to step down or rewind

Caught blinded by a futile primordial scream

Dropping final seeds into a increasingly bloodier stream

No direction now for the fragile time that never passes

That progression held only for those who act the crassest

Can one balance on the point of needle's tip

How quickly to be skewered for a tiny slip

Diving deep into the guts of investigation

Never thinking of course of consideration

Merely the need for blood on open fangs

Seeing the blackened soul lusting at future's never changed.

How can we breath life into splintered and shattered light

When most people only want to inhale the darkness of the infinite night.
Written by
Gabriel  35/M/Mile high
(35/M/Mile high)   
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