Monochrome
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Cold ground
Waking up back in the abyss
Farther down than before
Weathered chains reformed
Feathered wires crawling
Tethered wings spawning
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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