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Walden
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Isolation Ritual
The drums pound,
The regrets and despairs swirl.
Memories of an ancient time flood our consciousness,
A time we pine for.
Atavism courses through our veins.
Our lifeblood.
Profound hatred for what we've become.
Erase these years of pain and fear,
Technology and slavery.
The drums pound, return to the woods,
And back to ourselves.
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