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mutato nomine de te fabula narratu
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I called to the form, in the essence of hello.
No reply, the figure stands unabated unaffected by my call.
The figure stands as I approach, but to this I see the fog is thickening.
I call a second call with a hesitation.
Still no answer.
Still motionless, not a budge or hint of acknowledgment.
Is this concern that I feel for this nameless person?
Is this concern I feel for myself?
Faster and faster I walk, faster and faster I run towards the form.
But it seems that no distance has been made.
Is this a dream?
Is this consciousness?
Now exhausted I fell to my knees.
Do I want to know why this is happening?
Do I want to know who this form is in front of me?
Now I am motionless
I want to know, I cry out to the figure for a final bout.
“Why must you torture?”
“Why must you flee?”
“Why must you not know me?”
And again nothing.
So I rested my head on the cold hard ground.
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