Blood seeps from my brain
sight fades into unconsciousness
and those realities that once were
stones at the foot of mountains
are now shattering quietly
like empty beer bottles in a trash can.
I look myself in the mirror
And see empty hallways
Full of books never read,
and of silence greying out the shelves.
The weight of doubt rests on my sword,
Which, unsheathed, is laying on my heart
Slowly cutting in...
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