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Evil's Toy Home

Walking down the familiar hill,
Bare feet barely touching the dampground.
There is no light.
There is no sound.
There's only emptiness all around
A movement.
A face.
Familiar still,
But only a mask of her former self.
Darkness longing to hug him close,
Like lover's arms lost long ago.
And in the void,
He hears his name,
Mute voices calling out for him.