The hole's hands spill out,
Though its throat's thirst was quenched,
Even though the water wasn't sweet,
It continues to scoop and spill.
The hole's hands spill out,
Unable to obscure its vision,
The gentle heat
Burned away its optic nerve.
The pendulum's concealed third arm
Traces a backbone
Being pecked out
By a cold-hearted crow.
A pained sound rings out as
The concealed claw is thrust,
Having lost its essence, it relaxes,
A victim of nature's slow poison.
I only see what I want to see,
I believe what I want to believe,
I woke up too late,
I died.
And it's all your fault.
The hole's eyes spill out,
Running after a mirage,
Once it noticed how far away it was,
It slowed down.
The hole's eyes spill out,
Staring softly through the glass,
A meaningless word,
At an existenceless world.
Invisible though in broad daylight,
A scowling smuggler
Trespassed with muddy shoesー
They've returned.
But as dusk falls,
They ignore the stop sign,
Their heart avoiding it like a
Stake thrust into the wall.
A pained sound rings out as
The concealed claw is thrust,
Having lost its essence, it relaxes,
A victim of nature's slow poison.
I only see what I want to see,
I believe what I want to believe,
Their footsteps get louder
As they draw near.
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