Drip

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Dead leaves of fall and may, sap pine and natures play circles of death, the ocean mirrors the sky except when it falls and the light refracts off out of the atmosphere and the last suns dying rays are always pocketed by god so he can come and take our lives as well.

We have the supernovas left behind, enough is enough, let it dye itself the color of the moon shapes and blade space the void takes over and never leaves levitates the at the afternoon becomes sad and gives the rest of the demons of the moto they have been fighting with the fea (sorry I meant the Fae) for centuries their battles are legendary, yet they so much as seek and inch, and give love when found in hand baskets made of your enemy’s tears, do not be clever be wise there is a difference empathy gains you no strength but the gods

This is a circle, full circle let the best be victors let the survival be of ingenuity not of desks and thrown pencils. I think, I think, I think. Said thrice, a number to avoid, I suppose I I I lets avoid it now, yes?

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