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There are no blue skies here,Not much outside our closed doors.Inside, we breathe, we breed, we thrive.Inside - we are rotten.There are no blue skies ..
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On the great infinite, or the illusion of it. Time, space, existence, perspective, etc. Is it not ironic that infinity is portrayed by closed loops?
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Ticking away, the continuous snigger of timeEach a miscarried moment that could’ve.A steady trickle of clean water into the muck of days decayed..
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Across the glass, in ways evoking a splashing stream, A purpose of motion foremost, aspatter of perpetual sunset. Erased only to appear again, flouri..
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