So, I sat amongst my dreams and realised
that I must let them go
my staccato heart had learnt his lesson:
dancing with shadows can make an exile of the soul.
For years I toiled in the vain hope
that some bastard art might be born
until at last all that remained was emptiness in form.
My past stalking the halls of Heorot
monstrous and feeding on the bitterness of familiarity
like an old friend that knows where to land a blow
leaving you raving in the night.

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