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Darkness. Black and arid as summer nights are. Unknowing. The worlds ends at the edge of the bed. Unbeknowest to me, A light formed and broke My shallow interpretation of the world. The light dimmed, But it burned on. How? Why? A small ball of red light Moved left, Then right, And circled about. Dizzy and drunk With this expirence. In all the dankness of life, There is a cherry light, To wile your worries away. But tread carefully, The light burns slowly away. A truth that burns slowly at the end of my mother's cigarette. |