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Restore me, those words are stones dropped into a lake of voices. Rippling, The loudest of them, repeat ad nauseam. In this nexus, i am the oppressed. Jackals swim concatenating the worst of thoughts, plotting tomorrow’s coup d'é tat. My proclivity, to take the wheel Invariably pulls me under. Here in this place I am greased like Atlas Punished to become the choices I’ve made And for that I’m grateful.
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
The mountain that fell
Restore me, those words are stones dropped into a lake of voices. Rippling, The loudest of them, repeat ad nauseam. In this nexus, i am the oppressed. Jackals swim concatenating the worst of thoughts, plotting tomorrow’s coup d'é tat. My proclivity, to take the wheel Invariably pulls me under. Here in this place I am greased like Atlas Punished to become the choices I’ve made And for that I’m grateful.
AlexSalazar
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
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