In every decision,
They confere.
Blocking them is futile,
Of the living they were.

They are dead,
They eat away at me.
I lose them if I sleep,
They might leave for a fee.

Ghosts,
demons from the past.
They can claw at my feet
There wounds superficial and don't last.

If you studied fate,
Every possibility
I gave myself on a plate.
Would you find me.

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