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FLEEING THE NEMESIS

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He hops swiftly as his legs can carry Sweating profusely—instrospecting to Find subtler details, evidence for his Sorrow. Then do all his fingers point at Him, for the cub he overlooked is the Lion about to eat him. He prays, Hopes, anticipate for better speed His black-turning-white flushes with promising thoughts: O that I escaped today, I would Rid myself of every wild beast Ever petted. True indeed, for in the Face of challenge, the mouth can Promise the world
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