Jute Gyte forces of self shedding

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I cannot countenance the thought
Of broken glass remaining broken glass
The experience of repetition as death
Memories once shifting grown solid
Dismantling the past piece by piece
Self-contempt and hatred for the lost self
The full force of time's depth's horror
Cast back to the chain of desires
Nailed to the cross of the ruined past
Regression and nullification
Greed of time and being

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