i am the rose, and these are my thorns

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i fear that one day my mind will win.
that after all this time,
i will finally succumb to my own madness;

that the possibility of the fight
never being a real battle,
but a part of a master plan
to tire me out.

i fear my end is near —

that my brain will finally be
conquered by demons much
more horrific than
i have ever known.

i sense they are coming...

it should not be much longer
now before the thorns pierce
my flesh and leave me to bleed
out amongst my fallen petals.

for if this is the last thing
my sane mind writes...

know that i put up a good
fight but the war is over now
and i must rest.

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