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It never stops.

Fascinated by the idea of time,
I pondered at the two extremities,
A third always in the move,
Twelve perfect overlaps, twice,
what a groove.

As I looked once more,
I realized its growth,
For every move it made,
I made one of my own.

Time was my attack,
I was playing the restless,
I had shown the climax,
And hit pause.

The sudden recipe was toxic,
How long before words lose sentiment,
Before the purpose of these keystrokes
Are a mere distraction delaying action.

It's getting dark,
I'm unsure I'll make it.
Perhaps I'll break,
But even in pieces, i'll take it.

The neurons fire,
This is a pathology,
I've become a curious observer,
A patient, and a doctor.

The stars awaken,
How long have they taken,
Is it too late, I'm infected,
Holding strong but unprotected.

For every hand that's dealt,
I am well invested,
I'm taking my chances,
But no longer well rested.

A fourth left to go,
Who knows what the future holds,
But I've already listened clearly,
Shots were fired, it's desire.


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