Drowsiness stalks me late into the night. I hear his sly moves under shadows. I sense his eyes gorging on me long through the evening, preparing to leech on me yet again. I’ve set traps, barricades, and even resorted to my own elusiveness, but never have I escaped. His style is eloquent: always detectable, yet never preventable. His tactics: unsophisticated, yet impossible to emulate. He bides his time, never slacking interest, never bored by his detestable game.
I’ve fought valiantly, both in armies and alone. Sometimes I surrender, other times a brutal fatality defeats me. What kind of curse do I carry around every day, waking up with complete certainty that I will fall again? The pattern of the world is such: to rise only to fall again. However, I believe a day will come, and has already come, that one will fall to rise again. The dawn will be the beginning and the end, and my stalker will die eternally!
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Revelation 22:5
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