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I stand at the edge of the gloaming trees
Rank upon rank upon file of watching
Silent sentinels observing as
I stand in panicked contemplation.

Darkness clouds my peripheral vision
And in my wake the forest petrifies.

Yet before my feet the delta stretches
With endless potential beckoning…

But my feet are bound by fear
And the choice restricts my breathing.

Mist and wraiths obscure the horizon
Here the Sun is weak and distant
And without illumination
I have lost my way.

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