Subterfuge, like centrifuge, my eyes out of breath
To keep up with revolving apparitions
The following of wireless death
The smokestacks stray from earthly missions.
You take their lives away, sleep
You sought a cordoned off corner
A taken one from the deep
Left me a lone mourner.
Bequeathed a penalty, the crux
Of this word is the cunning sound
A burden too light for the dark
The dark, the weak left unfound.
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