Beware Of Malformed Thing.

Run child run
Run to the hut on the hill.
Run to the unnamed.
Run to the the obscure figure,
It is what you think is right;
Your gut feel.
But don’t be deceived
The faceless is no companion,
But a parasite
With tentacles in search of your insight.
Run child run,
Run to the unknown,
Run to your vile headstone.

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