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Words;
aging truths, fresh deceptions.
our clutches hang loosely from these hands
weak
worn threads.
The moisture of Time.
each soft drop of ignorance; a calamity.
every fable casts a tear in the abyss.
Time slows not for the discerning,
Time conceals itself from the fool.
one day; History drags us all into the light;
and spits in our eyes.
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