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E C H O E S

SEVEN. EIGHT. TWENTY-TWENTY FOUR

Is my voice casting echoes into the void?

Am I being silenced by the darkness that presents itself in front of me?

Captive, are my thoughts

Victims of the merciless pursuits of anxiety.

Its cyclical reign poisoning my temporal existence

Inquisition leading me back to the same plagued question...

Is my voice casting echoes into the void?

Am I being heard or silenced by the darkness that consumes me?

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