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Fragments of Solivagus

Solivagus_Poet
A mirror, not a poem. Fragments of thought scattered across the void, longing to be understood—perhaps even feared. This is the voice of the forgotten. Where identity crumbles, illusions shimmer, and the sky itself whispers lies. To read Fragments of Solivagus is not to follow a path, but to wander through a labyrinth of questions. Enter not to escape, but to remember. Because sometimes, madness is just clarity with no one left to hear it. { you can find me on Substack }
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