A cannibal called language,
Feasts on my tongue,
As I hang upside down
From the tree of life.
This drudgery of speech,
Should it exist, it
Will send me to the last dungeon
Of unfathomable feelings.
Now I am a thoughtless traveller
Lost in the last fold of knowledge,
And beyond it lays the bliss of death.
But If I eat your words before I die,
You can still smile at me.
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