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Maniacal Escape
Poems
Apr 2023
Deliverance
Stupor putrefies.
Knees wobble and hands prostrate.
Spirit slows its breathing.
Beholden to the madness
Laity massed around.
Sip. Sip. Drip. Drip.
Pray the sun doesn't rise tomorrow.
Written by
Maniacal Escape
30/M/lancashire
(30/M/lancashire)
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