Flight Fatigue

Solid ground first and foremost. Each footstep a reminder of who paved the way. Never seen my own footsteps in front of me. Even when I’ve come full circle, its hard to say. Attention to the minor details I never pay. Association with obsession a price, a fingerprint might cost. Searching to find better days, lost in a lot of nothing. Hopefully still on the way. Leave covered trees, plants growing from no seeds, light helps to only grow the stubborn weeds. To the terror I must speak, showing you puts me out in the open. Closed door, dare peep. Animals roam out here, more than sheep. Mush the ground, crisp the air.

In this game, nothing is really what it seems.

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