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Screeching, a mental image

Of thorns- penetrating your audition.

Like the fangs of a snake, inching 

Itself into your soul, soon-to-be-gone.

Screeching, a lapse

Of reasoning- cognitive impairment.

You gaze towards that horizon whereof

Death, resides beyond.

Screeching, a mystery

Of instability- profoundly evident.

Why, you ask; the destroyer of minds

Bashes your skull in response.

Screeching, a timeline

Of misery- possessing you.

That, which was at some point

Reeking of immense talent, 

Now taken to the gallows;

Tragedy unfolds, our hero is sold.

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