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Sleepless grey found in this hole

finally fallen through into remembrance

Reality shakes

Pangs strike across the surface

of (once) still, dead waters

the colours of decay

luring life inwardly

drowning

Turning faces glare and cringe

alternatively

downwardly

Thoughts of unborn brooding

fester under the surface

lending unfamiliar, disturbing form

And unthinkable (all-too-familiar) function

spin, spin, spin

Pray for the bottom

and yearn for the edge