Cold ground
Waking up back in the abyss
Farther down than before
Weathered chains reformed
Feathered wires crawling
Tethered wings spawning
Reaching, never grasping
Contact forever slipping
Pulled by its tendrils, entrapped
Extinguished by the skin that enfolds me
Not a song in me
Not an ask to keep
No more colors to see
Not a goal worth the reach
The sun has burned it out of me
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