Abandoned minds,
Nothing stollen,
Intently watched,
Silence golden.
Pounding footsteps,
Captured hearts,
What remains?
What departs?
The end is nigh,
Before inception,
Inopportune birth,
Void conception.
Distance procures,
the great escape,
Fleeting footsteps,
the thrill, the chase,
Oh it’s you that allures,
each time, each place,
from my favourite venture,
no escape.
Nowhere to run,
one twist of fate,
forever enslaved in the devils hate.
Nowhere to hide,
it’s served, the plate
killed for a bite of the deadly cake.
– Brocarde





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