exit carved in stone
from the day we were born
grown until entrance sown
to the abyss unknown
to where no wind speaks
of such quietus becoming
upon which its bodkin gives its claim

from where strides a behemoth
whose guard gives glancing judgement
through those qivitous striders
whose thin veil masks their painful truth
of which it has laid claim

on they run from their penultimate fate
to where no exit can set them free
no victory to haul them up high
only the entrance set in stone
only the way to death

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