musings stampeding through a wretched mind, with vibrance, fleeting into a lifeless abyss
resonant memories living in a dying thought, captive to the race of existing for a moment

a slave to the rush of nevermore
aching for release by the written word

swallowed with a tick
devoured by the tock

they no longer run within grasp of their birthright
destined are the lost to the backside of the moon for evermore



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