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Text page

blue brain


He moves to me in the pitch black,

Inside he spies the feelings that I seem to lack.

He tears through my velvet protection,

Cracking into my skull to begin his insurrection.

For years he's waged the battle inside my head,

For years his power has trumped instead.

Who is this awful one?

Is it a man who's time has come?

Most certainly not, but they play a part,

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