𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

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winter of '90

In my restless dreams, I traversed a city marred by bricks and debris—a post-war urban expanse. He, deprived of sight, his eyes as vacant and dark as obsidian. Amidst towering edifices, their windows concealed by triangular patterns, the structures ablaze and encased in ruins. Despite his sightless gaze and the blind facades, he inexorably approached, insane and surreal.

Each movement signaled the chilling grip of an unseen force tightening around my neck, casting me into the chasm of fiery structures. Those heavy days, how heavy the oppressive gray sky, burdened my wings —my panicked flight submerged beneath the earth. Countless faces, and countless lips, sought me, their words wearing me out until I fell asleep amidst their discourse. "Just tell us what happened", they implored. What could I tell? As I parted my lips, a stone fell out.

Those poor green eyeballs. Just where I hoped to find mercy.  I dreamt of descent, of imminent fade away and conclusion. Tears cascaded like torrents of rain, dreams veiled by a cry echoing from the abyss.

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