Shadows clouding our steps, casting a spark
of doubt. We bleed fatal mistakes, the pain
seeping into the pages. Tie the chain
around our pitiful necks, leaving marks
like battle scars. We struggle in the dark,
searching for words in the alphabet rain.
It pours and soaks our skin, leaving a stain
on our minds, permanent, like a birthmark.
Yet that blemish is no longer flaming.
The noose is loosening. We do not bleed.
Instead, the rain blesses us with a kiss
and suddenly, we have perfect aiming.
We catch that moment, our minds are now freed,
falling forwards into a rush of bliss.
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