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Mournful

Blast, the Word will never last A moment all before the General passed But one command remains, down a path Without a hope of resolution On the ground, they know the truth Sleight of hand, a wicked fragment Flies around his mournful cries All dismayed no Mother will arrive Stiff and still, you call it progress Unlearned repeats this tragedy Truly, nothing left to gain

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things