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Verbal Ataxia

Pale shadows leak under doorways, into moments of twisted clarity. Exposing desires and goals misshapen by poor judgement. Focus lost in mists of chaos while feeble minds grasp at the divine. 

In and out of madness, static discharges fire through tissue, creating, deceiving, contemplating. All is that which is undefined and impermanent turns to words, exiting through this organic proxy. 

The medium is the message, extolling virtues untested. Testing boundaries, seeking truth from the unreal. Axioms pour forth through gritted teeth, echoing in an empty theatre. Reverberating back, twisting, contorting until self evident truths become falsehoods. 

Words become burdens, half conceived notions find confirmation in silence. All is salient until it is tested. Water forms through clouded eyes, as riddles find answers. All is lost and found again, transformed by reflection and time. 

Truth is plural. All roads seeking a paradise lost. Hope finds purchase in directions unknown. Clarity through confusion. Innocence must be lost to be regained.

Surrounded by idols that teach ruin, great minds caged by louder voices, violent fluids seep from mouths, feeding on apathy’s bounty.

Derision and discontent flow freely in shackles, timid steps along the green mile. Dead men walking, ignorant of escape. 

And here I sit, hiding in excess. Poisoned blood and diseased mind. Hoping to heal untended wounds amidst this paused existence.

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