Spill

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"Life has a way of spilling colours in the brink on ending something.

Muddied water rolling through my tangled hair struggling to wet the strands of thin film I use to cover my face, oh! how I think it would paint my decaying existence... Spilling all over my dark shadow,
—colour me blind and let me see... What life has to finally offer... .

In this end... In this beginning..." .

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