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For a while he believed it.For a while he lived like a man who had trapped a secret agreement with the beyond.as if some small delay had been written in his favor.as if he could look death in the face and say, not yet, I still have one more page, one more woman to mourn, one more aria to stammer through, one more stage to light before the lamp goes out.

He Who Thought He Could Cheat the Dark ( A raw unpolished older draft about a damned poet)
Mar 29
at
6:33 PM
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