I don't know what I am now. I may be a slaughtered morning, or a city that's emptied of all life. I don't even know how I feel. I may be an empty land, an uncolored sky, a childless childhood, a graveless cemetery, a cup that holds nothing, sorrow that knows no bounds, a city in chaos. Everything seems to lead to the end, or the start of everything. MOHOMMED MOUSSO
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