¨༺ the journey ༻¨

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As I lay here
On the ground of the forest
I can finally allow
My body to rest.

First, the bugs come,
Slowly crawling on my skin as my
Body and the soil become one,
In this state of deadly bliss.

Then, a fox appears
To feast on my flesh,
But suddenly it hears
A crack from a branch.

It turns on its heel
As the thing emerges from the trees
And I'm grateful that I feel
Nothing now in my eternal sleep.

It scoops me up
Like a child ready for bed,
I drink from the devil's cup
And my mind slips away from
Existence...

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