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Journies
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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