The abyss by Terry Cummings

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Distortion now, the mind absorbs
Purity in the black
Watching dreams and floating orbs
Sliding from my back

Living here within the role
never taking breath
time does tell then takes a toll
too weak the grasp for death

Translucent now the mortal tone
From which the life swims through
Upon the edge we stride alone
The endless life we knew

Cherish these few fibres bound
The feeders hand may bite
For we are here as echoed sound
Pray to sleep at night