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The Purge
Nowadays I maintain a small boundary
My world is kept concealed
My world is kept within a grasp
Because my world has fragile life forms
It became fragile itself.
Since I can no longer run whenever I want
I made my stationary stance a home
Most sounds stirs my compulsory hibernation
So I must keep my ears on plug
I must always deflect a growing attachment.
Shutting instead of looking calms me down
I have learnt the value of staying in the ground
Though my dreams are enough, memory is overflowing
I'll consume a portion each day until it's empty
Then maybe if I have spare space, I'll just give it away.
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