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here is a never ending story a prose that will keep going like life until its grave they say the good die young so i must be bad because i am still alive i recite the passage that will never end running fingers on the keyboard at lightning speed with no breaks like the waterfall course of a river so fast like life that does not wait for me keep silent dont make a sound take in a deep breath and chant inside your head you know this story is not special there are no fullstops involved say it in one long breath in a way you might not understand in many phonetic noises you would not comprehend a massive mess of echoing you hear nothing
nothing at all
do you hear her crying out to you shes running back to where she left you shes afraid nd she things she needs you again she says she cant do without you but the serpant along the grass and the frogs that croak like they know sing as she is lying becase she never tells the truth she speaks no more truth than a grain of rice in a stack of needles she bleeds a stream as an act of sincerity and temps your lustful soul but it is fact that you only lust for her if such it is not lust and you dont deserve such treatment you are a man but a man of softness you cry and weep when you are affected over and over again you listen to her stories but you must know that there are limits to being a friend you dont deserve to be hurt again the many times she said she would she took it back and thrust you away until she felt you were important unlike the others who put her down they were man whores and she was a flirt sometimes she was even a slut she was unclean she slept around but you always gave in and took her in antyime everytime when will you be a man a real man with pride at the mountain summit you swear to the heavens and sip your blood you promise that she is the only one she is never serious and you are devoted the day comes when she runs away elopes with a man and none of it is you but you are foolish you sit and wait thinking that she would return you are always there available and ready to have new wounds afflicted over the old scars upon your weak mutiliated heart this will carry on because we all know she would haunt you till your grave is relocated and she does not find you anymore maybe one day come wind and storm tell me some day soon some day coming some day that some day i'll die
chill-