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sound it does the mystery the going on without, the getting up, the going on about

what could be the devilry the miscreant and the dance, the weapons glow, the shoulder

throw of the valiant man, what more what better yet what less is there to say, what more

to make of broken daylight seeping in through the hourglass, what promised land, what

given hand, what arm to stand and speak, what bitter woe, what turmoil, what happened

to the leaf, the sheet, the tree, the two trees, and the lock, cut it does, this weaponized

memory, to all of the things forgotten, to all of the past unwritten, to all of the love we made

to all of the words in flames, to everything gone today, to all the mysterious visitors, to

every night alone, to creation, to creating, to create what it is that knows, a knowing thing

a knowingness, and a contemplation upon the meaning of what it is to exist at all, once

more unto the breach dear friend, my fiend, my wicked fiend, you fiend, once more unto

the arch, once more unto the dungeon, take me back to the horrible pains, take me there

will you take me there again you wicked fiend, bring me unto the horrible kiss, the one that

happened between the lightnings split, between the thunders crash and the ancient death

between the legs between the arms between the catch, and the space inside, between time

between art between nothingness and all there is, diamonds are made from dissonance, all

of it wasted in abundance, all of it, everything, everything, everything pain, all pleasure

hide from me, for I shall be the great seeker, all shall die, all shall in my arms find some

deeply wrought past, that is life, that shall be life, to thee, and in your arms, my death

forever engulfed in the fire of the depths of the abyss, just to share it with thee, just to

be with thy presence ever masking so the dance of all dances, ever does the white mask

linger, ever does the white mask sing in ways the mind tries to escape, in ways the soule

remains, in ways only the soule can understand as ringing bells do in remembrance ring,

as harmonial slaughters of the self of being shall bring thee back to the surface of the sea

take all and everything and mix it with nothingness and emptiness and you shall discover

what it is to bleed, what is it to feel everything all the time what is it to care about belief

what is it that is a caring thing, what is it that emptiness fills, what is it that nothingness

covers than reveals, wherefore art thou spirit, wherefore art thou fiendish flame, running

running again through the ancient hallways, all does ignite, all does enlighten, all does

go again, go again into the flames, my heart, go once again unto the beaches unto

the meditation upon the dream of all dreams, unto realities still life, still living, still

the mind is, still all behind us, engulfed in the love of all there is, engulfing it is to be

this empty, full to the overflowing brim, and most honest, to break, and bleed again.

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