Aches from forgotten dreams

glasss knife 

Cutting at my chest

The night, neverending in my mind

Stars may shine but clouds cover them

A lonely dog patters alone in the street

Cloaked figures wafer the cobblestones

A single tall man with a shiny badge

He thumbles a small coin in his hand

Muttering in a corner a old man sleeps

A cloaked figure looks at this place 

No. It is now eternal. 

(RIP Terry Pratchett) 

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