Ficly

bright

as unfit a man as there ever was,
yet the words fall out of my mouth
my own ends, spliced with commas and periods.

the shadows at dusk cant paint a forest,
and the light between the heaven and earth
is not always bright enough to pry worlds apart.

if these things must be sound, and solid
our efforts will lead us to reach into darkness,
let the night welcome us.

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