Frowning
Its crowning offering the dark-drowning sign marking the way out
Godforsaken town
Three years now
Since I said I was up out of here, and quick about it
Inspiration’s not a forever fountain
That’s why hay’s made while one’s able
Inertia is the glue, depression as a rule, statuesque that unmoving
I am less with each turn, unspooling like an ongoing movie.
Alchemisland 
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