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Traveling MAG
The sea shines wearily,
Aching for the moon.
I lost my way,
A thousand minutes ago.
I wish I could just be lost.
I slept through the apocalypse,
I drowned in the summer rains.
I couldn’t find my water wings,
To recover me again.
Insanity is a virtue,
I found outside my door.
Inside was the fire,
That devoured away;
Disease,
Cold,
Dark.
What I find I left,
In the ashes of my past.
Is a girl.
Who could not discover God.
Walked alone,
But unearthed herself.
And there It was.
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