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297 · Nov 2017
Old Gold
Joofarimathea Nov 2017
The Chamber I dwell, a personal hell
The anger befell, unmistakable bell

In this boxed room; boxes off reality
In this unboxed mind, unboxes calamity

Peril circulates
Terror Percolates

Doors close, possibilites fold
As these ideas sit and mold
Old poem, dated from 2014

— The End —