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Filled
Folder:
The in between. Not very good. What is this hollow end before us
An outlet for the soul
To be set free from the decaying carcass
Once clung to with nails of ignorance
Is there a light for every tunnel
A darkened path for those deserving
Is a life best left misled
Than to have never lived at all
To feel the truth beneath us
And the light above our head
As the lie that lives within us
Becomes us till our demise
