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on the cusp of the knell,

his knuckles clench

onto the hues 

that fade in daunting



scarlet c***ades

upon his helmet of humanity

turn to dismaltude

unjustly, for his time

creeps away like

the mounainline of the EKG


he holds on his chest

a tarnished trinket

containing memories

fading to greyscale

before him-


but his eyes cannot see

beneath the dark cloaks

that weigh so heavily


he tries


but the world goes shut. 

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