words make little hissing sounds pulled through
thick white painted air-vents screwed in thin white painted walls.
the multitude of signs carried through the void
edged in red silver
boiling green lines spelling names out from forgotten hallways
symbols from a great lost past
all the entrances are marked
all the entrances are bloody exits
each footprint brings many things from the beyond
invisible deathlike strands built by invisible hands
invisibly moving through time
not a beginning not to end
the current state is simply misunderstanding
dreams are neither empty or rewarded
the bubbles are pulled through into the hall
and gravid with idea
they sink to the carpet floors to be trampled
to be trampled
to wait for the paint to crack and the walls as they truly are
can be seen.
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