ING

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Trying, further and further I run,
but I guess, I'll never be able to escape.
Always heavy shoulders, burning sun,
broken feet, hands tearing me back.
Feeling the chains, which enable me.
Hearing the whispers - paralyzing.
Pretending to be - advertising.
They're taking my sight, I can't see.
Drowning, everything turns black.
I'm leaving too many things undone.
Realizing, there is no one with a cape.
But lastly, in these chains, I hung.

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