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Seven

Anax

The doors of the hell
are open.
Unhealthy memoirs
follow me.
He has one more
in the reception
with your wrapped up body in hot cloths.

Isolation of the rude ones is the seventh floor.
See the microbes, mice and the kettle.
Everything is alive.

The nine portals of the hope.

This was already said!

Tomorrow I will apologize
to who?
Accept the words like them
they speak!