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The Lateness Of The Hour

Due to the lateness of the hour

He is passing away like a flower

His beauty is fading away from him

Time is dissecting him limb by limb

His mind is traveling to a distant land

Tangled in insanity, he's not the same man

His eyes are peacefully closing

His body is slowly decomposing

They rob his grave of his bones

In death, they won't leave him alone

I look at him, and I can clearly see

I now know what is to become of me

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Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
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Not Explicit Content
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