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The Apologist
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East Of The Wall
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Bound to kneel. Bound to go awry. Condemned to argue until we die. Bound to feel something more than I. Pulled through stumbling. Can’t you find your way gone? Thought the bough was able. Thought the height was scale, and the vertigo’s draw would show clemency, not scorn. Plunging comatose. Lost in those dull words. Bound to feel something more than I. Now we kneel in the breaking light. Respite is fleeting and loss is ours. Let go, now it’s time we fell. Don’t you walk away. Don’t you walk through a thousand changes. Though the alchemy burns me. I can’t save you, but I would argue. The morass that we’re swimming in wont let us catch our breath again and now we’re sunk. The tide that we’re drowning in rises past our eyes again and now we’re sunk Don’t you walk without stones. A lift without a load to pull you over. Don’t you climb without a hold. Don’t you let go. Can’t you see your days encumbered? The vast is made of parts. The scope just dots, and we all move the path we’ve drawn. But mine… to walk it is an art, defined by the strong. But I’m unclear this day.
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