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Got Lost

I cannot escape.

The Birds sing to me and The Wail drowns them. To the left is the forest which soothes me with the promise of a quiet journey slow and timeless as the seasons. Right, On The Road the death metal going 45,50,60,90 mph laughs, as the tires crush the skull of the last wanderer brave, 

Foolish? enough who set foot.!#*@&?....

roadkill or a crash helmet. The Stillness has been cut to pieces in the web of speed. Progress going nowhere. Not even stopping long enough to hear that the "dead" trees make a song that needs no destination. I am on the median walking, too fast. Crossing and recrossing along the roads, between

islands

that were once a continent. Now as fractured as my soul.

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