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Ozone
sinking down
filling in the wholes of the ozone with ashes of tomorrows infants
Screaming with Throats that have not been formed
Yet they exist
in Ideas
in Nerves
Triggered by pictures
Convulsing in the woods
not knowing if that trees sound when they fall upon you.
Chasing Phantoms of tomorrows spring.
Not realizing that you're frozen within the realms in the silent halls of death.
Falling downward into an abyss of lies and unrequited love
Ending soundly in your bed.
while nightmares fill your heart.
And life ends in your head.
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