feeling that you're inside,
with me, hiding inside me,
I know the day I'm going to die; an
angel sent me, told me, showed me.
Now I know the when and where but
the how's still hidden, left to me
to choose, unless this angel's message
was just a devil's ruse. But if the
choice is mine then years I have -
some time - to chance discovery of
what my death should be. The angel
came in flame - on a cloud.
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