Assume

to the end of the road i come,
lingering, so unobtrusive,
yet suddenly i turn to run,
a silent figure stands alone,
fleeing from an unbeatable foe,
i come to a fork in the road,
left? right? where to go?
misdirected i flee to the past,
hiding from the present,
is this day or thought my last?
the memory is fleeting...



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Missinformed Dissillusional Voices


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