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Claws at me

The claws are all at me:

sinister and ominous,

luring me into the dark alleys

of my head,

where all my courage 

and will power lay,

stabbed brutally.

Their carcasses prophetic 

of an imminent catastrophe.

And yet, I want to thrive in this hell.

And yet, what demon in me thinks 

I can defeat the horror?

To burn in humane,

but to rise again from the burnt is not.

The body I carry with me tells me

I am human.

The soul within, agrees not.



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