> The Darkener's Console

There is a suspicious-looking individual, holding a large bag, leaning against one wall. He is armed with a deadly stiletto.

Fists —

Something in my fists
I punch out with it

I can feel it leaving me
Like a bright flowing stream
Of light and negativity
This stale, blocked chi

Thank you for leaving me
Grounding, turning to nothing
Disappearing


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