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Journies

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I'm trapped.
Four rounded walls
Coming closer everyday.
Its dark as night
I kneel and pray.
They come in farther.
Dejavu.
Flashes of my life.
Times of me and you.
Its a metaphorical death of course.
Only in my mind.
I have more years to live.
More oppurtunities to find.
But then again, you must remember,
All our journies have been timed.





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