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Ink Blot
Falling and falling
down
into the abyss
Where light cannot dwell
all souls remain here,
in this cauldron of fear
Declaring yourself dead on the spot,
the minute you arrive
blotted out with ink
A name forgotten,
sunken in time,
claimed by a ghost
severed from the source,
a hollowed out gourd,
nothing but empty air
No memory of what was before,
only the myth and the lie
of one.
