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Restored

The hope I run towards, belongs to the others. With each void that passes, there is always another. This pain can be altered, but not destroyed. As I try to advance, there are guards to avoid. I feel guilt each time I sleep. The deeper I travel, the more consciousness I reap. There is a wait for sanity to be restored. I am bound to shame, like a mistake, it pours.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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