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Dark Ambient Noisescapes #109
About a mile and a half below the last station.
---
The way runs out, then whispers on into the unknown;
The red eye blinks, then goes dark;
The air tastes moldy, salted with old rain;
The map folds inward, a vein returning to dirt;
We wait for a train that knows it won’t return.
By Scavengah4.5
22 ratings
Dark Ambient Noisescapes #109
About a mile and a half below the last station.
---
The way runs out, then whispers on into the unknown;
The red eye blinks, then goes dark;
The air tastes moldy, salted with old rain;
The map folds inward, a vein returning to dirt;
We wait for a train that knows it won’t return.

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