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EncroachmentI sit here like the fog, dense Peering through the window. The trees silhouetted, Yet so alive. The fog stops the worlds turning, People exit, the fog enters, Like walking through a curtain. A veil to the world, A sadness that allows Us to question our very existence. Walking through the veil, Expecting to reach the other side, The translucence allows us, Only into its freedom. By David Semans |
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