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Cometh From Death
Like a bird without wings or a singer who can’t sing. Like a boxer that can only fight outside of the ring. Like a snake that can’t bite or a kite without flight. With no wind to uplift, a curse grips me tight; I’m cursed forever, eternally to drift. Never not feeling just ever so…
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Bad Hand, Bad Job
The speaker reflects on the inevitability of fate and loss, using a card game metaphor. Their heart feels cold and aging, suggesting despair. Despite a desire for a winning hand, the omniscient dealer represents life’s unpredictability, leading to a realization of impending defeat and the dark consequences of their choices.
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Into the Abyss of Darkness

The poem expresses a sense of paralysis, shock, and loss of control, with the mind spinning into darkness and dissolution of the ego in a vast expanse of space and time, stretching to infinity. It reflects a profound and unsettling emotional experience.