Steps unsteady, breath unclear,
truth was finished before the lie.
Something there is not happening
as it should. The world hears footsteps.
They are not the same. Rules have been broken.
What can be done? I follow.
To pounce, to seize,
upon numbered pages of history,
how old, how young they become.
Screams and silence,
black ice, white snow, melts red.
With sad eyes, only fate sees
into the future, alone.
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