The night drags on like the thoughts of a man on his last days. The wanderings of his mind do not cease, yet no matter what exits his lips... it's seen as lowly ramblings. He weeps uncontrollably, but no tear is ever shed. He sighs... the twinkle in his eye diminishes. His mind growing further and further a stray. It all makes sense to him but it's still just the ramblings of a man. He weeps again; ever silent, ever silent... as the dead of night, as it drags on.
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