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CL Fjell Apr 2019
My impulses guide me again and again
Light in clear path yet I stray toward sin
A hand grabs my shoulder to pull me back in
A familiar face, room, and warmth from within

Sweet fragrance of the void of which I cling
As I jump I start to hear the angels sing
Their singing growing to a shrieking sting
Oh god how I wish I still had my wings
Think about your thoughts

— The End —