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Asking

de Chalk

Those wolfish stomachs are too deep for me
Futile thoughts aren’t enough to feed
What's the worth in a smile
Hiding hostile and venomous teeth?

In this room the air is thinning
As I tremble at the knees of your sons
Dreams are a waste in the first place
Most dreams are forgotten

Shadowed figures
This room of shattered mirrors

I can't rest in here
I’ve left this dream a thousand times

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