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Chapter 4

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4. Entangled Echoes

Sitting, ensnared by thoughts unkind,

 My mind a net, dragging behind.

Pins and needles, a world unfurled,

Yet the pain remains, unswirled.

No pill too strong, no whiskey mild,

To calm the tempest, to soften wild.

My face a canvas, paranoia's kin,

 In my head's grip, the screams begin.

Others writhe,

strapped to tables bare,

Why am I chained? I'm stable, aware.

Locked in solitude, the mind's cruel jest,

In silent agony, I find no rest.

Waking in a nightmare that never should have been.

 Chained to this tabled, have I always been?

Lost in a maze of questions, unseen,

Trapped in a reality, A world between

We are unseen.

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