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Wednesday 20 June 2018

My Threnody

Staying alive by holding stone-cold hands with a ghost. When the light frightens, close your eyes.
When the night tightens, say goodbye.
The view from the peak of Lonely Mountain astounds but there is no sound for the air's too thin, too thin and sheer to hide your hideous grin of naked fear, your true self come for one last look, a final sight for your soul to carry as a small balance to steady the ship--then Panic boards, the engines roar and off you soar for an eternity of flight.…

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