WEBVTT

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This is a short poem
called "The Condition."

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The darkness within
me is growing.

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I am turned out.

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Thought feeds on it even
as the body is eaten.

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Its goodness is without a face,
but it convinces me to look.

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It can fade from
now until doomsday.

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It will not fade.

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In the night I see it
shining like a thing seen.

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