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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2235565
Change comes from within
I stand before a crossroads
Holding a shovel,
Covered in mud from
Where I buried the dead man.

He fought with untold fury
but I was cunning
And slit my throat,
The man I used to be.

Now he lies, an unknown grave
where the victor stands:
a blank slate bearing
wisdom from another life.

Limping to the crossroads,
I forge a new path,
Scarred from battle,
Haunted by the one I've slain.

Rain falls, washing off the mud,
Baptizing me anew.
I turn to grey skies,
Whispering oaths bound in blood.

A cold hand upon my shoulder,
His mocking phantom
Gurgles you'll never change
I smile because I already have.

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