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Making a Case

Sour to my phase

Stuck on one

Down to none

Power in a gaze

Of the son

In need of a deed

Without the pain

I can stand to gain

Or maybe I can refrain

From counting the grains

Of sand

Falling from my hand

Landing on the whole land

Spanning all of time

Is the open mind

Of all humankind

Shinning in the grime

Time

Where we live in our head

To remember our dead

Failing what they said

Failing to be lead

To THIS

Forward moving mess

That ends the rest

Of us who shed

The gripping fear of death


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Abstracted

polished lawless brawl fills the city holes pretty little seamless blemish attracted to no avail it will trusted well prevent a past decent catchme hail to this and breath endlessly for symphony

TIP

BACH

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