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the plenilune gaze
Guilt
It is here. I imagine blood on my hands.
I run...but I can't escape.
It won't stop bothering me. It won't go.
In every corner, alley, silhouette,
it strives to catch me.
No use hiding, it has infiltrated my mind.
Sending waves of thought and scenes,
it prods and nudges into the deep recess.
It churns out what I've been concealing.
Like a weedkiller, it strikes my conscience.
As it eats away my soul, I am reminded
of everything, including that night.
I shuddered, trying to pick up
the pieces of my subconsciousness.
I put my hands up, yelling a surrender.
Swiftly it washed over and I blacked out.
I felt bonds on my wrists and chains around my mind.
As I looked up to the person who placed them,
guilt was staring back.
Now in this small cell,
guilt has finally let me free.
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