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This madness willfully neglects rest; This madness of desires; Sees far off quests from roaring echoing

choirs Of the Angels and Demons I once knew, These demon angels birthed from me that was you. This sadness I have once held, So high and mighty I have fought Into myself without retreating To see, what exactly was or is to be. To claim futuristic fright; A nauseating exercise futile with delight. Seen futures from when? From whom, did these sights begin? Is there some deja v spirit, whence this I is Born again into consciousness memory forgotfully had? Such devilish claims are what they seem to be, This sort of magical nostalgic memory; Or should I require such leading desire to Unwed the Above from me? Such words ripple from my fingers, echoed and rewritten by voice unknown; Yet seen now in memories that may have never been; hindsight knowledge shown. I lost track of the edge years ago when I once feared, Simplicity cannot become with knowledge of here. Automatic Madness Samuel Moskalik 2012

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