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Doodles of kitty Spydoc as I pull myself out of this funk.
I am a body covered in blood Whether it be from the enemies or my own None matters to one renowned for the brutality of war. For six hundred and eighty seven sols does the revolution transpire And for six hundred and eighty seven more does it revolve again I have 2 followers, Fear and Terror, that take up my wake. My body was was thought of to be full of life and lush Now I am barren, a husk of my former self, My extremeties caps of rustic ice.
I inhale lemon.
A sweet breath
That ushers in my sleep,
So then i waver
Into a state
Filled with nothing
Except the scent
Of tangerine dreams.