• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 10

Midnight

Midnight,
a doer has dropped

all the weapons,
stepped

into the dark
that is

the private
fear, the inner

route, dead-end.

The broken lines,
bones, dreams

against
the void.

A doer wanders
through

the years, the roots,
the endings

and declines,
starts to think, tastes

the softest blend of
chalkboard doses.

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