“Heart is heavy, legs are weak,
Spinting faster, losing feet,
Given chase, but what surrounds?
Hits the dirt, nothing found.
Keep me grounded, underground,
The still of the chase, echos around.
When the thrill has run away,
Coiled on the ground is where I’ll stay.
The still of the chase, makes no sound.
It’s holds it’s power, underground.
Buried mind, torn apart
Running faster, pumping heart.
It is dark and it is cold,
Yet still the thrill is taking hold.
Deeply entangled with my mind,
Can’t out run – these thoughts of mine.
Over my shoulder you will stay,
Given chase, can’t run away.
The still of the chase, makes no sound.
It’s holds it’s power, underground.”
– Brocarde



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