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Sliding

Updated on April 21, 2015

Red mud
flowing through my veins.
Red mud like a hemorrhage
in my head.
My gun in my mouth
my mind will run,
from past to present,
future and back,
to find the reason
that I lack,
the will to live,
to fight back.
The darkness swallows
all the light,
takes me away every night,
to a place of fear,
a place of shadows so surreal,
like the faceless friends
I've grown to love,
and the empty sky that lye above.
The stars and moon
have all grown dull,
toppled by time's death so soon,
leaves my blackened eyes staring into mirthless twilight.

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