the world unfocused
tenuous at best we guess at the rest
days pass in spectacle smudge haze
and yet we stumble forward fazed
no time to stop and clean the lens
lest the monster keeping pace behind
creeps closer till its breath upon our necks
to devour us before our time
so feet serve as sight and set a pace
towards deliverance or desolation
the race begun
must be run
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