The arrow of time slowly creeps
The archer of inferno with raised brows,
Awaits - the mortal legion, armed for a combat.
Stabbed incessantly I writhe, with open scars that bleed,
I shut my eyes to this world of deceit in reflex
But I can't escape the myth of reality.
God inflicts angst on me.
I cry. I mourn. I shiver. I wail.
I am lost, never to return.
It's a defeated Me.
A Me quite not Myself.
This I - a lone self.
I am Orion, waiting for my place amidst the constellation.
If I could die, in death I would,
Inscribe my inncocence and my endless pain.
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