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May 2014
Trough the slims-infected forests
Across the snow-cried mountaintops
Walk walk and walk, but the swamps and the solitude won’t end
You can’t run, you’re ready to die, and all you ask for is not to cry
You see the end of the line.
It’s close, too close; you can’t face it so you try to escape it.
It’s worthless; your heart starts to fail
Your blood won’t sail
Your bones start to crack
You try to scream, but your voice stays back.
The light’s getting closer.
You start to pray
You’re afraid of the pain
The forest is getting darker
The sun disappears and the wolfs start to howl.
The moon appears and your tears dry out.
Alone, afraid, lost in no man’s land
You hear the scream of the demons getting closer.
You make peace with all the mistakes you’ve made.
The screams get closer, the light is arriving.
You beg to be painless
But the demons are starving
Tonight you are the pray
And they shall feast on you
João Oliveira
Written by
João Oliveira
286
 
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