LEVIATHIN   H.T 228

clack     clack     clack  

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The black pit of night fades in following you closely 

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clack     clack     clack  

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Through narrow valleys and sloped roads by a recognizable tell tale sound it makes

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clack     clack.        Whoosh

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now why did you turn around?. My shape means less than the air you breath. Smog is as trippy as the breadth of night.
 

I am going to walk with you into earth

and all its' quiet until the night ceases