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Fight …
One more day—
The end of the line is near,
Soon the poem will unfold
The stretching lost meaning
Of a vague existence,
Meshing around
To move the hands of a clock,
Or stop the passage of time.

Fight …
Maybe this is the last night,
Enjoy it all,
For all things eventually end—
Big and small—
Turn into memories,
Or in oblivion.
Nothing matters more
Than what you do here;
Than what you have now.
If tomorrow all the mystery clears,
All the excitement will be gone.

Fight …
Nothing is after,
Nothing is before—
Now is the time to stand,
So fight.
Tears may trench the cheeks,
Old shadows haunt
Like a spider’s web;
The road ahead
Full of misty dungeons of doubt,
Built to ground you within your fear.
Everything seems near,
Yet nigh unreachable.
Stand up tangled—
Struck by the Gorgons’ gaze,
Life will move on
Without you;
A monument will all but remain—
Of those too afraid
To be alive.
Fight …
The only way in life
Is forward.
Fight …


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