but who are you in the dark? when all the world stops watching, the only voice your own, to reign on ghosts alone. born to bear the weight, the albatross, dare to sleep with whiskey on your breath, and flashes of sudden memorial from past loves and pressure on your chest. the path a sullen iteration in the form of regret and a self portrait, tired eyes and torrid stories hanging duly from your neck. when you lie alone where do you wander? to the future infatuated, the past in penance, or present times for preservation. stoned nomadic, for the minds a wily bastard on nights each pale horse rides.
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