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I slit my wrists to the rhythm of angels blowing the trumpets of time in sequence. Snakes of steel make tunnels in the dirt as the tears of prophets left mud where they stood. The blood of martyrs ran cold down empty streets where shadows hide from view. My hands shivered as I watched the sky bleed while deities fell helpless on this soil of never ending dispair. But this will pass.

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"I open the door, to an empty room, then I forget."