Portent: Telling Tolls

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I broke myself of that wandering habit.

The one that keeps me walking through the mist & mire. All the walking my mind would require. All the stalking for one desire. What winds twist an unseen fire. What seeds aid a skillful liar.

The way is well-lit. I broke myself of that wandering habit.

By way of starlight, my plight is a simple insignificance. I need a finer brilliance to protrude from my eye. Weave in & out again, belly up & believing the ribs still enclose the heart.

I start unravelling & can't stop. The heart of a lion, have I. Don't catch the claws on your passage, my friend. My word will falter should I have to prove it.

I broke myself of that wandering habit.

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