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John Restrepo

@excidiumiconoclast7

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- Cimmerian Dominions screaming beyond the dreaded hour, As the Vatic Messenger comes with Omens and Doom, Orphic Ritual consecrated in darkness and blood. To imprecate madness and Nocturnal dispersion, Tenebrous execrations making prey of all the unbelievers, At despairing heights I seize the abductions of day. Flying into the heart of Oblivion as the skies burn, Soon lightening strikes and brings humanity to its knees, I will come as a stranger upon your mists and bring forth the red death. I am the faceless and purgatorial Abditory to your ungrateful and feral kind, Behold the macabre Apparition that slithers upon the Goetic Altar, Tonight the Crossroads burn and the Heretic Moon waxes with their madness. Somewhere something dark and Horrible is waiting to be reborn, The haunter of the obscure is summoned by your moral superstitions, As sciaphobic temples arise out of the Endless Abyss. I am Thy sweet truth becoming the inescapable dark bitter lie. Mea Culpa, Amaranthine and soulless one, Your last words as the walls of mortality start closing in, Your insalubrious tongue is a plague soon to be born, Sycophants and unbelievers carnage in the screaming depths. From within I come unwelcome and unannounced, I dwell where there are no signs of life, Through Envy and Omen I open the gates of your fiendish end, I strive for higher and stranger things and moments, See the last infernal revelation deep inside my enflamed eyes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Reddeath #Edgarallanpoe #Doom #Crossroads #Harbinger
- Cimmerian Dominions screaming beyond the dreaded hour, As the Vatic Messenger comes with Omens and Doom, Orphic Ritual consecrated in darkness and blood. To imprecate madness and Nocturnal dispersion, Tenebrous execrations making prey of all the unbelievers, At despairing heights I seize the abductions of day. Flying into the heart of Oblivion as the skies burn, Soon lightening strikes and brings humanity to its knees, I will come as a stranger upon your mists and bring forth the red death. I am the faceless and purgatorial Abditory to your ungrateful and feral kind, Behold the macabre Apparition that slithers upon the Goetic Altar, Tonight the Crossroads burn and the Heretic Moon waxes with their madness. Somewhere something dark and Horrible is waiting to be reborn, The haunter of the obscure is summoned by your moral superstitions, As sciaphobic temples arise out of the Endless Abyss. I am Thy sweet truth becoming the inescapable dark bitter lie. Mea Culpa, Amaranthine and soulless one, Your last words as the walls of mortality start closing in, Your insalubrious tongue is a plague soon to be born, Sycophants and unbelievers carnage in the screaming depths. From within I come unwelcome and unannounced, I dwell where there are no signs of life, Through Envy and Omen I open the gates of your fiendish end, I strive for higher and stranger things and moments, See the last infernal revelation deep inside my enflamed eyes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Reddeath #Edgarallanpoe #Doom #Crossroads #Harbinger
- Cimmerian Dominions screaming beyond the dreaded hour, As the Vatic Messenger comes with Omens and Doom, Orphic Ritual consecrated in darkness and blood. To imprecate madness and Nocturnal dispersion, Tenebrous execrations making prey of all the unbelievers, At despairing heights I seize the abductions of day. Flying into the heart of Oblivion as the skies burn, Soon lightening strikes and brings humanity to its knees, I will come as a stranger upon your mists and bring forth the red death. I am the faceless and purgatorial Abditory to your ungrateful and feral kind, Behold the macabre Apparition that slithers upon the Goetic Altar, Tonight the Crossroads burn and the Heretic Moon waxes with their madness. Somewhere something dark and Horrible is waiting to be reborn, The haunter of the obscure is summoned by your moral superstitions, As sciaphobic temples arise out of the Endless Abyss. I am Thy sweet truth becoming the inescapable dark bitter lie. Mea Culpa, Amaranthine and soulless one, Your last words as the walls of mortality start closing in, Your insalubrious tongue is a plague soon to be born, Sycophants and unbelievers carnage in the screaming depths. From within I come unwelcome and unannounced, I dwell where there are no signs of life, Through Envy and Omen I open the gates of your fiendish end, I strive for higher and stranger things and moments, See the last infernal revelation deep inside my enflamed eyes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Reddeath #Edgarallanpoe #Doom #Crossroads #Harbinger
- There is a time for change and a time to stand still, No Man or God will be eternally waiting for you on the other side, I decided to one day Leave and never come back, I was never the prodigal Son nor the saviour you had been waiting for. I am not seeking servants nor rebellious spirits, Just come as you are and call yourself my friend. We are like sunflowers facing the sun of our eternity, Once we live too much in the Sun we want to fade and disappear, It has rained forty days and forty nights in my nomadic soul. And I shall walk through the houses of their faithlessness and sanity, Just as the fools and the lunatics desire for me to follow them, Show me the shattered mirror of your life and I will show you who you are, They say I have the eyes of a prophet and the spirit of the vagabond. The Ocean is too deep to claim me and their hearts are too narrow and empty to understand, The Journey has made some detached and uninterested, Yet eternally I wander like a rolling stone upon your open hand, Throw it into the chained skies and finally set yourself free. How many trials and tribulations I have to go through to make you understand? Why shall they adorn you with Gold and mirth if you profit from our misery and pain? These are the dark times that come to devour Men's souls and lead them astray, Be not afraid and use my words as a bridge from you heart to your soul. © John Restrepo *For Bob Dylan... Always an inspiration to my Soul sick blues Photo Credit goes to the Artist (Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #BobDylan #Departure #Travelingman #Noprodigalson #redemption
- There is a time for change and a time to stand still, No Man or God will be eternally waiting for you on the other side, I decided to one day Leave and never come back, I was never the prodigal Son nor the saviour you had been waiting for. I am not seeking servants nor rebellious spirits, Just come as you are and call yourself my friend. We are like sunflowers facing the sun of our eternity, Once we live too much in the Sun we want to fade and disappear, It has rained forty days and forty nights in my nomadic soul. And I shall walk through the houses of their faithlessness and sanity, Just as the fools and the lunatics desire for me to follow them, Show me the shattered mirror of your life and I will show you who you are, They say I have the eyes of a prophet and the spirit of the vagabond. The Ocean is too deep to claim me and their hearts are too narrow and empty to understand, The Journey has made some detached and uninterested, Yet eternally I wander like a rolling stone upon your open hand, Throw it into the chained skies and finally set yourself free. How many trials and tribulations I have to go through to make you understand? Why shall they adorn you with Gold and mirth if you profit from our misery and pain? These are the dark times that come to devour Men's souls and lead them astray, Be not afraid and use my words as a bridge from you heart to your soul. © John Restrepo *For Bob Dylan... Always an inspiration to my Soul sick blues Photo Credit goes to the Artist (Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #BobDylan #Departure #Travelingman #Noprodigalson #redemption
- There is a time for change and a time to stand still, No Man or God will be eternally waiting for you on the other side, I decided to one day Leave and never come back, I was never the prodigal Son nor the saviour you had been waiting for. I am not seeking servants nor rebellious spirits, Just come as you are and call yourself my friend. We are like sunflowers facing the sun of our eternity, Once we live too much in the Sun we want to fade and disappear, It has rained forty days and forty nights in my nomadic soul. And I shall walk through the houses of their faithlessness and sanity, Just as the fools and the lunatics desire for me to follow them, Show me the shattered mirror of your life and I will show you who you are, They say I have the eyes of a prophet and the spirit of the vagabond. The Ocean is too deep to claim me and their hearts are too narrow and empty to understand, The Journey has made some detached and uninterested, Yet eternally I wander like a rolling stone upon your open hand, Throw it into the chained skies and finally set yourself free. How many trials and tribulations I have to go through to make you understand? Why shall they adorn you with Gold and mirth if you profit from our misery and pain? These are the dark times that come to devour Men's souls and lead them astray, Be not afraid and use my words as a bridge from you heart to your soul. © John Restrepo *For Bob Dylan... Always an inspiration to my Soul sick blues Photo Credit goes to the Artist (Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #BobDylan #Departure #Travelingman #Noprodigalson #redemption
- The treason of walls, Smothering what is left unsaid, Following the steps into the throes of winter, Parallels of nothingness rising from the depths. Am I your ghost labyrinth or your hand of doom? Cascading apparitions crawling out of my thoughts, Heteronyms created from the black mirrors of fate. As the cross of winter still burns in my subconscious, In a place where many dreams still go to die, As the hemispheres of my memories wither and disappear, Is this the last solstice of our solitude? I must not stagnate and use my small hours for better or for worst, Olden promises laid to rest beneath the autumn moss and forest roots, As sunset is consecrated between our loss and pale reflection, For the Children of sunrise have long gone into hiding..... As Nature Reckons upon the uncharted crossroads within.... Through the vestige of Seasons I metamorphose once more, As silence blizzards like an autumnal wolf through the lands of fire, For I am the crimson scythe of the spiritual harvest. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Winter #Isolation #Journey #fate #Heteronym #Spiritualsearch #Ashesburning
- The treason of walls, Smothering what is left unsaid, Following the steps into the throes of winter, Parallels of nothingness rising from the depths. Am I your ghost labyrinth or your hand of doom? Cascading apparitions crawling out of my thoughts, Heteronyms created from the black mirrors of fate. As the cross of winter still burns in my subconscious, In a place where many dreams still go to die, As the hemispheres of my memories wither and disappear, Is this the last solstice of our solitude? I must not stagnate and use my small hours for better or for worst, Olden promises laid to rest beneath the autumn moss and forest roots, As sunset is consecrated between our loss and pale reflection, For the Children of sunrise have long gone into hiding..... As Nature Reckons upon the uncharted crossroads within.... Through the vestige of Seasons I metamorphose once more, As silence blizzards like an autumnal wolf through the lands of fire, For I am the crimson scythe of the spiritual harvest. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Winter #Isolation #Journey #fate #Heteronym #Spiritualsearch #Ashesburning
- The treason of walls, Smothering what is left unsaid, Following the steps into the throes of winter, Parallels of nothingness rising from the depths. Am I your ghost labyrinth or your hand of doom? Cascading apparitions crawling out of my thoughts, Heteronyms created from the black mirrors of fate. As the cross of winter still burns in my subconscious, In a place where many dreams still go to die, As the hemispheres of my memories wither and disappear, Is this the last solstice of our solitude? I must not stagnate and use my small hours for better or for worst, Olden promises laid to rest beneath the autumn moss and forest roots, As sunset is consecrated between our loss and pale reflection, For the Children of sunrise have long gone into hiding..... As Nature Reckons upon the uncharted crossroads within.... Through the vestige of Seasons I metamorphose once more, As silence blizzards like an autumnal wolf through the lands of fire, For I am the crimson scythe of the spiritual harvest. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Winter #Isolation #Journey #fate #Heteronym #Spiritualsearch #Ashesburning
- I want to see your smile opening with the clouds, Just like blooming flowers that are housed inside your eyes, I have searched for you inside the night and its infinite stars, Through the compass of your thoughts I will always feel where you are. I remember standing there at the train station waiting for you, Not remembering that long ago we left our hearts at the tracks, Looking through the Wagon of our memories trying to bring you back to life, Soon it will be dark and I am looking for you in every soul and mind. Until one day you came back again into my arms, I remember the Sun coming through the dark corners of my words, All I need is your presence and a guitar to bring heaven to your knees, What I wouldn't do right now to look into your eyes and feel your eternal kiss. I say open the Cornucopia of your Golden years, Follow me beyond the roads of your feeling my dear, I will not let the winters of my years take you away again, There is always a river to take us home..... All you have to do is light up our light to reach up the sky. Let's stop taking everything and everyone personal and live in the moment, Let the jokers and Fools pass us if it needs to be, If pretenders and usurpers come they will just say we were never here, For once in our lives let us do what we believe in and never look back. © John Restrepo Photograph of Bob Dylan by Don Hunstein, Circa New York City 1963 #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #lovelostlovereturned #Wonderer #promises #Neverlookback
- I want to see your smile opening with the clouds, Just like blooming flowers that are housed inside your eyes, I have searched for you inside the night and its infinite stars, Through the compass of your thoughts I will always feel where you are. I remember standing there at the train station waiting for you, Not remembering that long ago we left our hearts at the tracks, Looking through the Wagon of our memories trying to bring you back to life, Soon it will be dark and I am looking for you in every soul and mind. Until one day you came back again into my arms, I remember the Sun coming through the dark corners of my words, All I need is your presence and a guitar to bring heaven to your knees, What I wouldn't do right now to look into your eyes and feel your eternal kiss. I say open the Cornucopia of your Golden years, Follow me beyond the roads of your feeling my dear, I will not let the winters of my years take you away again, There is always a river to take us home..... All you have to do is light up our light to reach up the sky. Let's stop taking everything and everyone personal and live in the moment, Let the jokers and Fools pass us if it needs to be, If pretenders and usurpers come they will just say we were never here, For once in our lives let us do what we believe in and never look back. © John Restrepo Photograph of Bob Dylan by Don Hunstein, Circa New York City 1963 #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #lovelostlovereturned #Wonderer #promises #Neverlookback
- I want to see your smile opening with the clouds, Just like blooming flowers that are housed inside your eyes, I have searched for you inside the night and its infinite stars, Through the compass of your thoughts I will always feel where you are. I remember standing there at the train station waiting for you, Not remembering that long ago we left our hearts at the tracks, Looking through the Wagon of our memories trying to bring you back to life, Soon it will be dark and I am looking for you in every soul and mind. Until one day you came back again into my arms, I remember the Sun coming through the dark corners of my words, All I need is your presence and a guitar to bring heaven to your knees, What I wouldn't do right now to look into your eyes and feel your eternal kiss. I say open the Cornucopia of your Golden years, Follow me beyond the roads of your feeling my dear, I will not let the winters of my years take you away again, There is always a river to take us home..... All you have to do is light up our light to reach up the sky. Let's stop taking everything and everyone personal and live in the moment, Let the jokers and Fools pass us if it needs to be, If pretenders and usurpers come they will just say we were never here, For once in our lives let us do what we believe in and never look back. © John Restrepo Photograph of Bob Dylan by Don Hunstein, Circa New York City 1963 #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #lovelostlovereturned #Wonderer #promises #Neverlookback
- Soon came the rain and she was gone.. My beautiful lady and mountain girl, She left her memories inside the trees and the leaves, Now I sit here by the dark fire writing her song and poem. She stands between Devils and Angels trying to be free, I can still feel your presence in the cold winter wind, Soon the Roads became never ending and her legend became more reclused and abstract, As I kept becoming more estranged and forlorn, How deep is the Ocean of One's Isolation and thoughts once your loved one departs, I only brought you a paper moon and a crown made of fallen stars, Come thunder or stormy weather I will always be by your side, You became the phantasmal one that left to never come back. I went to your old apartment but you were never there, But I always had your memory to keep me warm in these cold nights, I have seen deep into the black mirror of your mind and soul, Always tracing a path for you to follow in beyond the nights without light or a soul. You are made of stardust and rivers of infinity, Soon as the skylark starts to fly into the paradise of your words, Can you hear me now lady blue...I know I am just a stranger to your love and light, I will always watch over you come tribulation or unforgiving night. © John Restrepo Photograph credit goes to the Artist(Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #ladyblue #skylark #Memories #HerBeauty
- Soon came the rain and she was gone.. My beautiful lady and mountain girl, She left her memories inside the trees and the leaves, Now I sit here by the dark fire writing her song and poem. She stands between Devils and Angels trying to be free, I can still feel your presence in the cold winter wind, Soon the Roads became never ending and her legend became more reclused and abstract, As I kept becoming more estranged and forlorn, How deep is the Ocean of One's Isolation and thoughts once your loved one departs, I only brought you a paper moon and a crown made of fallen stars, Come thunder or stormy weather I will always be by your side, You became the phantasmal one that left to never come back. I went to your old apartment but you were never there, But I always had your memory to keep me warm in these cold nights, I have seen deep into the black mirror of your mind and soul, Always tracing a path for you to follow in beyond the nights without light or a soul. You are made of stardust and rivers of infinity, Soon as the skylark starts to fly into the paradise of your words, Can you hear me now lady blue...I know I am just a stranger to your love and light, I will always watch over you come tribulation or unforgiving night. © John Restrepo Photograph credit goes to the Artist(Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #ladyblue #skylark #Memories #HerBeauty
- Soon came the rain and she was gone.. My beautiful lady and mountain girl, She left her memories inside the trees and the leaves, Now I sit here by the dark fire writing her song and poem. She stands between Devils and Angels trying to be free, I can still feel your presence in the cold winter wind, Soon the Roads became never ending and her legend became more reclused and abstract, As I kept becoming more estranged and forlorn, How deep is the Ocean of One's Isolation and thoughts once your loved one departs, I only brought you a paper moon and a crown made of fallen stars, Come thunder or stormy weather I will always be by your side, You became the phantasmal one that left to never come back. I went to your old apartment but you were never there, But I always had your memory to keep me warm in these cold nights, I have seen deep into the black mirror of your mind and soul, Always tracing a path for you to follow in beyond the nights without light or a soul. You are made of stardust and rivers of infinity, Soon as the skylark starts to fly into the paradise of your words, Can you hear me now lady blue...I know I am just a stranger to your love and light, I will always watch over you come tribulation or unforgiving night. © John Restrepo Photograph credit goes to the Artist(Unknown) #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bobdylan #ladyblue #skylark #Memories #HerBeauty
- She became the darkness to my light, The Hemlock to my antidote, Cradled by Crows and darkness, I watched how the night enveloped her and took her away from me, I never knew what happened to her, But every night I would hear her spirit and heart, The winds will blow violently bringing ominous Omens, The Trees would howl along with the fallen Halos and stars that fell at her vanishing point, One day with my estranged blood I will open a portal and bring her back to life. © John Restrepo Art by Jeremy Hush #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Gothic #mystery #Crows #Night #promisetoher #Portal
- She became the darkness to my light, The Hemlock to my antidote, Cradled by Crows and darkness, I watched how the night enveloped her and took her away from me, I never knew what happened to her, But every night I would hear her spirit and heart, The winds will blow violently bringing ominous Omens, The Trees would howl along with the fallen Halos and stars that fell at her vanishing point, One day with my estranged blood I will open a portal and bring her back to life. © John Restrepo Art by Jeremy Hush #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Gothic #mystery #Crows #Night #promisetoher #Portal
- She became the darkness to my light, The Hemlock to my antidote, Cradled by Crows and darkness, I watched how the night enveloped her and took her away from me, I never knew what happened to her, But every night I would hear her spirit and heart, The winds will blow violently bringing ominous Omens, The Trees would howl along with the fallen Halos and stars that fell at her vanishing point, One day with my estranged blood I will open a portal and bring her back to life. © John Restrepo Art by Jeremy Hush #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Gothic #mystery #Crows #Night #promisetoher #Portal
- Do not go gentle into the puzzle of the nothingness and unknown, Are fate and evolution the ultimate occam's Razor? Judging our probabilities and manifestation. The parsimony of the vacuum of the infinite, As burning predictions open gateways to our understanding, Our own Ad hoc falsification by all we fail to behold and see. We are the causality of the metaphysical and inperical mirage, Through the black hole of ideas I save the phantoms of Humanity, Like the paradox of event horizon existing beyond the point of no return. Vibrating with all forms living or hidden, Finding the seed and ruins of the higher self, The unfolding of the Monad along with the inertia of the Oversoul. Following the ripples of multidimensional voices and monuments, I have surpassed my own dark night of the soul, And united with my own shadow self. As the Vortex of the Free Will becomes the prime mover, Feeling the Aural gravitation of what you call destiny, The Merkaba of thoughts and ideas soon starts manifesting. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysical #Oversoul #Freewill #Mysticism #purpose #darknightofthesoul #Soulsearching
- Do not go gentle into the puzzle of the nothingness and unknown, Are fate and evolution the ultimate occam's Razor? Judging our probabilities and manifestation. The parsimony of the vacuum of the infinite, As burning predictions open gateways to our understanding, Our own Ad hoc falsification by all we fail to behold and see. We are the causality of the metaphysical and inperical mirage, Through the black hole of ideas I save the phantoms of Humanity, Like the paradox of event horizon existing beyond the point of no return. Vibrating with all forms living or hidden, Finding the seed and ruins of the higher self, The unfolding of the Monad along with the inertia of the Oversoul. Following the ripples of multidimensional voices and monuments, I have surpassed my own dark night of the soul, And united with my own shadow self. As the Vortex of the Free Will becomes the prime mover, Feeling the Aural gravitation of what you call destiny, The Merkaba of thoughts and ideas soon starts manifesting. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysical #Oversoul #Freewill #Mysticism #purpose #darknightofthesoul #Soulsearching
- Do not go gentle into the puzzle of the nothingness and unknown, Are fate and evolution the ultimate occam's Razor? Judging our probabilities and manifestation. The parsimony of the vacuum of the infinite, As burning predictions open gateways to our understanding, Our own Ad hoc falsification by all we fail to behold and see. We are the causality of the metaphysical and inperical mirage, Through the black hole of ideas I save the phantoms of Humanity, Like the paradox of event horizon existing beyond the point of no return. Vibrating with all forms living or hidden, Finding the seed and ruins of the higher self, The unfolding of the Monad along with the inertia of the Oversoul. Following the ripples of multidimensional voices and monuments, I have surpassed my own dark night of the soul, And united with my own shadow self. As the Vortex of the Free Will becomes the prime mover, Feeling the Aural gravitation of what you call destiny, The Merkaba of thoughts and ideas soon starts manifesting. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysical #Oversoul #Freewill #Mysticism #purpose #darknightofthesoul #Soulsearching
- The essence of existence, Like the fragrance of the inevitable, We fly with the wings of oblivion into the unknown. Feeling it's fragrance smothering your depth and soul, Let phantasmal vessels enter the unconscious side of your mind, When night enters our lives....everything seems to depart our being. Following tidal waves of cascading infinity, Unsurpassed by the weight of the unspoken, Deconstructing and metamorphosing your foresight and introspection. No longer a slave to the Throes of our ultimate fate, Monarch abstract Sunrise gives way to my own hubris and transcendence, Esoteric Monoliths stand in defiance against the arrogance of Man. As philosophical lightening strikes upon the ashes of a foreign world, Metaphysical maelstroms opening to the Abyss of questioning, As the weight of space and time starts to isolate our spiritual hibernation. Between dark matter and an enlightened spectrum I deconstruct myself, So Fragile is the hidebound fleeing chronology of Nature, The Alpha and Omega Centauri of our ultimate hidden light. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysics #Metaphor #Existence #Existentialism #search #deconstructingtruths
- The essence of existence, Like the fragrance of the inevitable, We fly with the wings of oblivion into the unknown. Feeling it's fragrance smothering your depth and soul, Let phantasmal vessels enter the unconscious side of your mind, When night enters our lives....everything seems to depart our being. Following tidal waves of cascading infinity, Unsurpassed by the weight of the unspoken, Deconstructing and metamorphosing your foresight and introspection. No longer a slave to the Throes of our ultimate fate, Monarch abstract Sunrise gives way to my own hubris and transcendence, Esoteric Monoliths stand in defiance against the arrogance of Man. As philosophical lightening strikes upon the ashes of a foreign world, Metaphysical maelstroms opening to the Abyss of questioning, As the weight of space and time starts to isolate our spiritual hibernation. Between dark matter and an enlightened spectrum I deconstruct myself, So Fragile is the hidebound fleeing chronology of Nature, The Alpha and Omega Centauri of our ultimate hidden light. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysics #Metaphor #Existence #Existentialism #search #deconstructingtruths
- The essence of existence, Like the fragrance of the inevitable, We fly with the wings of oblivion into the unknown. Feeling it's fragrance smothering your depth and soul, Let phantasmal vessels enter the unconscious side of your mind, When night enters our lives....everything seems to depart our being. Following tidal waves of cascading infinity, Unsurpassed by the weight of the unspoken, Deconstructing and metamorphosing your foresight and introspection. No longer a slave to the Throes of our ultimate fate, Monarch abstract Sunrise gives way to my own hubris and transcendence, Esoteric Monoliths stand in defiance against the arrogance of Man. As philosophical lightening strikes upon the ashes of a foreign world, Metaphysical maelstroms opening to the Abyss of questioning, As the weight of space and time starts to isolate our spiritual hibernation. Between dark matter and an enlightened spectrum I deconstruct myself, So Fragile is the hidebound fleeing chronology of Nature, The Alpha and Omega Centauri of our ultimate hidden light. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Metaphysics #Metaphor #Existence #Existentialism #search #deconstructingtruths
- The child grows detached and cold, Controlled by virtual hearts and empty souls, Day by day they start to fade in the distance, Not knowing what the darkness of tomorrow brings, Do not grow up so fast and stay forever in dreamland, Where nothing hurts and no one else has to die, On the outside there is only fact and fiction, Appreciate who and what you have before it's gone with the nuclear winds...... Run away from the clouds of holocaust, Frolic through Gardens of memories and imagination, Erased my words and blur my sight until I do not know who you are, The Monsters are very real.....and day by day I am becoming more like them. Soon the cradle breaks and the Sun starts to fade away, You want to fall in love only to have your soul usurped and your heart broken, Ahh little one you still have so much to see and learn, Here they cut off your wings and dissect your mind before you start to fly. Now the Imaginary playground is abandoned and in ruins, The boy has become withdrawn and bitter against the tides of reality, Turn off the lights and shatter the mirrors of resurfacing fears, They have become puppets of time and have developed contradicting identities... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Innocence #Childhoodsend #Isolation #Change #Memories #spiritualruins
- The child grows detached and cold, Controlled by virtual hearts and empty souls, Day by day they start to fade in the distance, Not knowing what the darkness of tomorrow brings, Do not grow up so fast and stay forever in dreamland, Where nothing hurts and no one else has to die, On the outside there is only fact and fiction, Appreciate who and what you have before it's gone with the nuclear winds...... Run away from the clouds of holocaust, Frolic through Gardens of memories and imagination, Erased my words and blur my sight until I do not know who you are, The Monsters are very real.....and day by day I am becoming more like them. Soon the cradle breaks and the Sun starts to fade away, You want to fall in love only to have your soul usurped and your heart broken, Ahh little one you still have so much to see and learn, Here they cut off your wings and dissect your mind before you start to fly. Now the Imaginary playground is abandoned and in ruins, The boy has become withdrawn and bitter against the tides of reality, Turn off the lights and shatter the mirrors of resurfacing fears, They have become puppets of time and have developed contradicting identities... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Innocence #Childhoodsend #Isolation #Change #Memories #spiritualruins
- The child grows detached and cold, Controlled by virtual hearts and empty souls, Day by day they start to fade in the distance, Not knowing what the darkness of tomorrow brings, Do not grow up so fast and stay forever in dreamland, Where nothing hurts and no one else has to die, On the outside there is only fact and fiction, Appreciate who and what you have before it's gone with the nuclear winds...... Run away from the clouds of holocaust, Frolic through Gardens of memories and imagination, Erased my words and blur my sight until I do not know who you are, The Monsters are very real.....and day by day I am becoming more like them. Soon the cradle breaks and the Sun starts to fade away, You want to fall in love only to have your soul usurped and your heart broken, Ahh little one you still have so much to see and learn, Here they cut off your wings and dissect your mind before you start to fly. Now the Imaginary playground is abandoned and in ruins, The boy has become withdrawn and bitter against the tides of reality, Turn off the lights and shatter the mirrors of resurfacing fears, They have become puppets of time and have developed contradicting identities... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Innocence #Childhoodsend #Isolation #Change #Memories #spiritualruins
- Flower from Shinjuku, Envied and desired by the many, How blessed and fortunate I had been to be in your presence, Between eccentricity and florescent lights you gave life to it all, But deep inside you were trying to run from your secret and hidden past. Running away from human and imaginary shadows, I remember the Blue piano story, Now it rests in regrets and ashes somewhere, It's like that old faithful Dog that never left his Master's Grave.. But you had to escape before reality and the darkness caught up with you, Before you became a slave to your fatalist and scarred beauty, There is always hope on a new land with new beginnings, What would you do once you get too close to the heart of the setting Sun? There is blood on the cherry blossoms and the winter snow, I must be an accidentalist masochist for wanting to know what happened to you, You can still feel her negligence and absence through the train station, Open doors screaming at my conscience and asking me to find answers to her questions, The nightlife soon starts bloodletting your thoughts into deep madness. This place is a twenty four hour narcotic for the lost and unfound, Soon the streets start denigrating my memories and abducted Amnesia, Playing Russian Roulette with your mind and soul is a scary thing to taste, Her fleeting and absent presence became my strangulating and existential Wabi-Sabi. ~FIN ? © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Japan #Tokyo #Fusa #Shibuya #Oldphantoms #reminiscent
- Flower from Shinjuku, Envied and desired by the many, How blessed and fortunate I had been to be in your presence, Between eccentricity and florescent lights you gave life to it all, But deep inside you were trying to run from your secret and hidden past. Running away from human and imaginary shadows, I remember the Blue piano story, Now it rests in regrets and ashes somewhere, It's like that old faithful Dog that never left his Master's Grave.. But you had to escape before reality and the darkness caught up with you, Before you became a slave to your fatalist and scarred beauty, There is always hope on a new land with new beginnings, What would you do once you get too close to the heart of the setting Sun? There is blood on the cherry blossoms and the winter snow, I must be an accidentalist masochist for wanting to know what happened to you, You can still feel her negligence and absence through the train station, Open doors screaming at my conscience and asking me to find answers to her questions, The nightlife soon starts bloodletting your thoughts into deep madness. This place is a twenty four hour narcotic for the lost and unfound, Soon the streets start denigrating my memories and abducted Amnesia, Playing Russian Roulette with your mind and soul is a scary thing to taste, Her fleeting and absent presence became my strangulating and existential Wabi-Sabi. ~FIN ? © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Japan #Tokyo #Fusa #Shibuya #Oldphantoms #reminiscent
- Flower from Shinjuku, Envied and desired by the many, How blessed and fortunate I had been to be in your presence, Between eccentricity and florescent lights you gave life to it all, But deep inside you were trying to run from your secret and hidden past. Running away from human and imaginary shadows, I remember the Blue piano story, Now it rests in regrets and ashes somewhere, It's like that old faithful Dog that never left his Master's Grave.. But you had to escape before reality and the darkness caught up with you, Before you became a slave to your fatalist and scarred beauty, There is always hope on a new land with new beginnings, What would you do once you get too close to the heart of the setting Sun? There is blood on the cherry blossoms and the winter snow, I must be an accidentalist masochist for wanting to know what happened to you, You can still feel her negligence and absence through the train station, Open doors screaming at my conscience and asking me to find answers to her questions, The nightlife soon starts bloodletting your thoughts into deep madness. This place is a twenty four hour narcotic for the lost and unfound, Soon the streets start denigrating my memories and abducted Amnesia, Playing Russian Roulette with your mind and soul is a scary thing to taste, Her fleeting and absent presence became my strangulating and existential Wabi-Sabi. ~FIN ? © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Japan #Tokyo #Fusa #Shibuya #Oldphantoms #reminiscent
- Tonight is about "Fast" Eddie Clarke and the Motorhead Lads, if it wasn't for them and the music, who knows where I would be. They broke all the rules and wrote the Rock and Roll Book in Blood, sweat , and Tears. Always got to pay respect to all the great ones that have left us too damn soon. Never forget your Heroes...they went through Hell and back to bring you the gift from the Gods so to speak. So crank it Loud! Play it fast!! And let it Loose! I Sit here with my Beer and listening to Ace of Spades by Motorhead..... I have not lived in vain. #Motorhead #Motorheadnights #Playitloud #Fasteddieclarke #Lemmy #Philthy #Rockandroll #Letitloose
- Tonight is about "Fast" Eddie Clarke and the Motorhead Lads, if it wasn't for them and the music, who knows where I would be. They broke all the rules and wrote the Rock and Roll Book in Blood, sweat , and Tears. Always got to pay respect to all the great ones that have left us too damn soon. Never forget your Heroes...they went through Hell and back to bring you the gift from the Gods so to speak. So crank it Loud! Play it fast!! And let it Loose! I Sit here with my Beer and listening to Ace of Spades by Motorhead..... I have not lived in vain. #Motorhead #Motorheadnights #Playitloud #Fasteddieclarke #Lemmy #Philthy #Rockandroll #Letitloose
- Tonight is about "Fast" Eddie Clarke and the Motorhead Lads, if it wasn't for them and the music, who knows where I would be. They broke all the rules and wrote the Rock and Roll Book in Blood, sweat , and Tears. Always got to pay respect to all the great ones that have left us too damn soon. Never forget your Heroes...they went through Hell and back to bring you the gift from the Gods so to speak. So crank it Loud! Play it fast!! And let it Loose! I Sit here with my Beer and listening to Ace of Spades by Motorhead..... I have not lived in vain. #Motorhead #Motorheadnights #Playitloud #Fasteddieclarke #Lemmy #Philthy #Rockandroll #Letitloose
- Here comes another rainstorm, As you are caught between love and hate, Do not call the undertakers for I am not ready to go yet, Crooked souls for crooked times. Soon it would be closing time...not in the Bar .....but in our hearts and souls, Between daydream and nightmare we are strangled by our experiences, From the Troubadour to New York city I would go in search of phantoms and derelicts, Old books and burnt letters soon remind you of the cages and traps of escapism. It is always the small hours and moments that strangle you the most, Only the lonely carry enough madness and wit to set the world aflame, Old friends now become bitter enemies that soon poison your cup, Soon the Devil throws sulphur inside the factories of the running mind. Broken hearts and mad dogs trying to save the last con and regret, As another table opens at the never ending Beggar's banquet, Soon the alcohol rivers and the fortune teller will make forget, As the keys of life nowadays seem to fit nowhere, But the Lock has Always been in our scattered ashes and last words. As some old Dog barks at the nocturnal nothingness, After falling down and relapsing upon the barren arms of reality I finally understand , Soon you find that estranged homecoming upon the graveyard of your thoughts, As an abandoned burning Piano in the corner tells of cheap thrills and cold truths. Behind the walls of the House that Tom Built you find the ghosts of many lost nights, Behind cigarrete smoke and bourbon clouds you begin to finally come back home, Through dead end Alleys of suffering deadbeats start to make amends and make narcotic dreams come true, Like I sad once before and I say it now....Never again. © John Restrepo #Tomwaits #Writing #Inspiration #Loveandhate #Neveragain #Burningpiano #Newyorkcity #Desolation
- Here comes another rainstorm, As you are caught between love and hate, Do not call the undertakers for I am not ready to go yet, Crooked souls for crooked times. Soon it would be closing time...not in the Bar .....but in our hearts and souls, Between daydream and nightmare we are strangled by our experiences, From the Troubadour to New York city I would go in search of phantoms and derelicts, Old books and burnt letters soon remind you of the cages and traps of escapism. It is always the small hours and moments that strangle you the most, Only the lonely carry enough madness and wit to set the world aflame, Old friends now become bitter enemies that soon poison your cup, Soon the Devil throws sulphur inside the factories of the running mind. Broken hearts and mad dogs trying to save the last con and regret, As another table opens at the never ending Beggar's banquet, Soon the alcohol rivers and the fortune teller will make forget, As the keys of life nowadays seem to fit nowhere, But the Lock has Always been in our scattered ashes and last words. As some old Dog barks at the nocturnal nothingness, After falling down and relapsing upon the barren arms of reality I finally understand , Soon you find that estranged homecoming upon the graveyard of your thoughts, As an abandoned burning Piano in the corner tells of cheap thrills and cold truths. Behind the walls of the House that Tom Built you find the ghosts of many lost nights, Behind cigarrete smoke and bourbon clouds you begin to finally come back home, Through dead end Alleys of suffering deadbeats start to make amends and make narcotic dreams come true, Like I sad once before and I say it now....Never again. © John Restrepo #Tomwaits #Writing #Inspiration #Loveandhate #Neveragain #Burningpiano #Newyorkcity #Desolation
- Here comes another rainstorm, As you are caught between love and hate, Do not call the undertakers for I am not ready to go yet, Crooked souls for crooked times. Soon it would be closing time...not in the Bar .....but in our hearts and souls, Between daydream and nightmare we are strangled by our experiences, From the Troubadour to New York city I would go in search of phantoms and derelicts, Old books and burnt letters soon remind you of the cages and traps of escapism. It is always the small hours and moments that strangle you the most, Only the lonely carry enough madness and wit to set the world aflame, Old friends now become bitter enemies that soon poison your cup, Soon the Devil throws sulphur inside the factories of the running mind. Broken hearts and mad dogs trying to save the last con and regret, As another table opens at the never ending Beggar's banquet, Soon the alcohol rivers and the fortune teller will make forget, As the keys of life nowadays seem to fit nowhere, But the Lock has Always been in our scattered ashes and last words. As some old Dog barks at the nocturnal nothingness, After falling down and relapsing upon the barren arms of reality I finally understand , Soon you find that estranged homecoming upon the graveyard of your thoughts, As an abandoned burning Piano in the corner tells of cheap thrills and cold truths. Behind the walls of the House that Tom Built you find the ghosts of many lost nights, Behind cigarrete smoke and bourbon clouds you begin to finally come back home, Through dead end Alleys of suffering deadbeats start to make amends and make narcotic dreams come true, Like I sad once before and I say it now....Never again. © John Restrepo #Tomwaits #Writing #Inspiration #Loveandhate #Neveragain #Burningpiano #Newyorkcity #Desolation
- THE LAUGHING COFFIN What would Buk think? Ungrateful and conceited beggars of Humanity and presence, How much I despise these opportunistic cockroaches! Feeding upon the crumbs of my life and decay, Like those cemetery friends who came to borrow my words, I remember when our lives looked like a car crash, Full of harsh truth and ignored hopelessness, Ashtray smiles upon the sewer that is my wounds, They were more worried about a book deal and their fifteen minutes of game than my health, Many are still trying to escape this farce we call life, Let's be spontaneous and creative with our vices and agony for once, How I miss her insanity and unexpected mood swings... It is six in the morning and the damned Bar is not even open yet!!! Soon the unwelcomed prodigal rats will come inside my crumbling church of misery.... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bukowski #Barflies #Mendicants #OldBuk #fiends #cockroaches #soullobotomy
- THE LAUGHING COFFIN What would Buk think? Ungrateful and conceited beggars of Humanity and presence, How much I despise these opportunistic cockroaches! Feeding upon the crumbs of my life and decay, Like those cemetery friends who came to borrow my words, I remember when our lives looked like a car crash, Full of harsh truth and ignored hopelessness, Ashtray smiles upon the sewer that is my wounds, They were more worried about a book deal and their fifteen minutes of game than my health, Many are still trying to escape this farce we call life, Let's be spontaneous and creative with our vices and agony for once, How I miss her insanity and unexpected mood swings... It is six in the morning and the damned Bar is not even open yet!!! Soon the unwelcomed prodigal rats will come inside my crumbling church of misery.... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bukowski #Barflies #Mendicants #OldBuk #fiends #cockroaches #soullobotomy
- THE LAUGHING COFFIN What would Buk think? Ungrateful and conceited beggars of Humanity and presence, How much I despise these opportunistic cockroaches! Feeding upon the crumbs of my life and decay, Like those cemetery friends who came to borrow my words, I remember when our lives looked like a car crash, Full of harsh truth and ignored hopelessness, Ashtray smiles upon the sewer that is my wounds, They were more worried about a book deal and their fifteen minutes of game than my health, Many are still trying to escape this farce we call life, Let's be spontaneous and creative with our vices and agony for once, How I miss her insanity and unexpected mood swings... It is six in the morning and the damned Bar is not even open yet!!! Soon the unwelcomed prodigal rats will come inside my crumbling church of misery.... © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Bukowski #Barflies #Mendicants #OldBuk #fiends #cockroaches #soullobotomy
- EPILOGUE...... Are we just lost shadows after the big bang? I can hear the silence blistering through all your blame and blooming emptiness, We are not the same as when our journey first began, Where were you the night the world ended and they took our memories away? Who can you trust once the empty spaces start fleeing and words have no more value? Crucified by your religion and misunderstood by your closet philosophers, Can you really trust the government once they sell your life behind your back? Pain and death seems to be the only currency that can satiate their destruction and greed. We have gone so far that there is no way that we can ever turn back, Soon the fires of reality will consume everything that can not stand alone, The Scapegoat and manipulation game never seems to End, This seems to be the Land that time and Life too soon forgot, As the Doomsday Clock keeps ticking and we still have not been forgiven for what we have done. People keep being treated as objects and Objects as People, Getting lost between skeptics and realists trying to make your last escape, The Climate keeps changing but never our understanding and fading reason, I just want to disappear to the dark side of the Moon and never return, Where my mind and soul are gone....But never my truth and myth. We have reached the ultimate threshold of Dehumanization and detachment, Addicted to virtual Cesspools and Narcisistic windows to the Soulless, Here it is none for all....As you keep falling for this Altruistic façade and Con, Soon the Assimilation waves come to drown the last Glimpses of dead hopes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Pinkfloyd #Darkhopes #Isolation #Nuclearfears #detachment #isolation #Bigbang #Pain #Society
- EPILOGUE...... Are we just lost shadows after the big bang? I can hear the silence blistering through all your blame and blooming emptiness, We are not the same as when our journey first began, Where were you the night the world ended and they took our memories away? Who can you trust once the empty spaces start fleeing and words have no more value? Crucified by your religion and misunderstood by your closet philosophers, Can you really trust the government once they sell your life behind your back? Pain and death seems to be the only currency that can satiate their destruction and greed. We have gone so far that there is no way that we can ever turn back, Soon the fires of reality will consume everything that can not stand alone, The Scapegoat and manipulation game never seems to End, This seems to be the Land that time and Life too soon forgot, As the Doomsday Clock keeps ticking and we still have not been forgiven for what we have done. People keep being treated as objects and Objects as People, Getting lost between skeptics and realists trying to make your last escape, The Climate keeps changing but never our understanding and fading reason, I just want to disappear to the dark side of the Moon and never return, Where my mind and soul are gone....But never my truth and myth. We have reached the ultimate threshold of Dehumanization and detachment, Addicted to virtual Cesspools and Narcisistic windows to the Soulless, Here it is none for all....As you keep falling for this Altruistic façade and Con, Soon the Assimilation waves come to drown the last Glimpses of dead hopes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Pinkfloyd #Darkhopes #Isolation #Nuclearfears #detachment #isolation #Bigbang #Pain #Society
- EPILOGUE...... Are we just lost shadows after the big bang? I can hear the silence blistering through all your blame and blooming emptiness, We are not the same as when our journey first began, Where were you the night the world ended and they took our memories away? Who can you trust once the empty spaces start fleeing and words have no more value? Crucified by your religion and misunderstood by your closet philosophers, Can you really trust the government once they sell your life behind your back? Pain and death seems to be the only currency that can satiate their destruction and greed. We have gone so far that there is no way that we can ever turn back, Soon the fires of reality will consume everything that can not stand alone, The Scapegoat and manipulation game never seems to End, This seems to be the Land that time and Life too soon forgot, As the Doomsday Clock keeps ticking and we still have not been forgiven for what we have done. People keep being treated as objects and Objects as People, Getting lost between skeptics and realists trying to make your last escape, The Climate keeps changing but never our understanding and fading reason, I just want to disappear to the dark side of the Moon and never return, Where my mind and soul are gone....But never my truth and myth. We have reached the ultimate threshold of Dehumanization and detachment, Addicted to virtual Cesspools and Narcisistic windows to the Soulless, Here it is none for all....As you keep falling for this Altruistic façade and Con, Soon the Assimilation waves come to drown the last Glimpses of dead hopes. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Pinkfloyd #Darkhopes #Isolation #Nuclearfears #detachment #isolation #Bigbang #Pain #Society
- I Arise where Allum Lillies grow, You called for me....Now I am finally here, Drink from the Hemlock Wells of my dark truth, Lightening strikes and stalks whoever picks my Gentania Verna, I am both the Crone and the Hand of coming Doom. Mandrake Gates opening beyond your last dream, I scatter the Anemone leaves upon all that you never say, Under the Amaranth Eye of the full Moon I await for you in dark pastures, In your deep slumber you transform into Bay Leaf Flowers, Death is coming.....but nothing or no one is as it ever seems. Behold a Buquet of withered Flora and a darkened heart, Such are the profits of an unknown fate and a damned soul, I place you under my black Cypress Mantle for these are your final hours, Once you are upon the darkest crossroads....I can no longer protect You. Meet me in the abandoned fields where the Lavender Grows against the light, Under the hidden Scythe of Time against which many failed to stand, For Long time ago she dwellet in the forbidden lands of Laburnum, For once my judgement and will is put into place.....It can never be reversed, Bringing forth the unwanted tidings of Grief and departure. Soon you shall Reap all that you have sown, The Eternal Harvest of Souls never begins or ends, I seek not to drink from the cup of your poisoned Grace, As the gateways of pestilence and famine open upon your mortal arrogance. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Darkness #Grandleveller #makethingsequal #Death #Bringerofdoom
- I Arise where Allum Lillies grow, You called for me....Now I am finally here, Drink from the Hemlock Wells of my dark truth, Lightening strikes and stalks whoever picks my Gentania Verna, I am both the Crone and the Hand of coming Doom. Mandrake Gates opening beyond your last dream, I scatter the Anemone leaves upon all that you never say, Under the Amaranth Eye of the full Moon I await for you in dark pastures, In your deep slumber you transform into Bay Leaf Flowers, Death is coming.....but nothing or no one is as it ever seems. Behold a Buquet of withered Flora and a darkened heart, Such are the profits of an unknown fate and a damned soul, I place you under my black Cypress Mantle for these are your final hours, Once you are upon the darkest crossroads....I can no longer protect You. Meet me in the abandoned fields where the Lavender Grows against the light, Under the hidden Scythe of Time against which many failed to stand, For Long time ago she dwellet in the forbidden lands of Laburnum, For once my judgement and will is put into place.....It can never be reversed, Bringing forth the unwanted tidings of Grief and departure. Soon you shall Reap all that you have sown, The Eternal Harvest of Souls never begins or ends, I seek not to drink from the cup of your poisoned Grace, As the gateways of pestilence and famine open upon your mortal arrogance. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Darkness #Grandleveller #makethingsequal #Death #Bringerofdoom
- I Arise where Allum Lillies grow, You called for me....Now I am finally here, Drink from the Hemlock Wells of my dark truth, Lightening strikes and stalks whoever picks my Gentania Verna, I am both the Crone and the Hand of coming Doom. Mandrake Gates opening beyond your last dream, I scatter the Anemone leaves upon all that you never say, Under the Amaranth Eye of the full Moon I await for you in dark pastures, In your deep slumber you transform into Bay Leaf Flowers, Death is coming.....but nothing or no one is as it ever seems. Behold a Buquet of withered Flora and a darkened heart, Such are the profits of an unknown fate and a damned soul, I place you under my black Cypress Mantle for these are your final hours, Once you are upon the darkest crossroads....I can no longer protect You. Meet me in the abandoned fields where the Lavender Grows against the light, Under the hidden Scythe of Time against which many failed to stand, For Long time ago she dwellet in the forbidden lands of Laburnum, For once my judgement and will is put into place.....It can never be reversed, Bringing forth the unwanted tidings of Grief and departure. Soon you shall Reap all that you have sown, The Eternal Harvest of Souls never begins or ends, I seek not to drink from the cup of your poisoned Grace, As the gateways of pestilence and famine open upon your mortal arrogance. © John Restrepo #writing #Poetry #Inspiration #Darkness #Grandleveller #makethingsequal #Death #Bringerofdoom

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