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Decay Lives in an Extant Form of Life

I walk down the overused dirt path that leads to the forest
My weapon of choice pressed tightly against my palm
The messenger of the Artist cannot avoid avoid my aim for it is now august
But the cool metal does little to calm

The trees have dropped their leaves so that I can see my target clearly
I readjust my weapon, hands trembling
I lie to myself saying it was the passing breeze
But deep down I know I'm no match for their scythe

The mushroom all but laughs in my presence and my mind screams "flee!"
I cry out, the sound no more than a pathetic croak as I raise my shaking arm
"I am not afraid of you!"

The mushroom replies with words only I can hear
"Killing me cannot save thou too."
It was on this bare autumn day that I could see the eternal truth
Decay lives in an extant life no matter what I do

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⏰ Última atualização: Dec 14, 2019 ⏰

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