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Destitutions Curse
A wakeful man riding
Constant terminal dusk
Coveting dawns glow
Conqueror of rapacity
Constructing his empire
Of gold and silvers avarice
Feigning his thrill of life
So spuriously rehearsed
In his eyes they are trivialities
Only now he sees the truth
In the darkness of his sepulcher
Surrounded by his useless wealth
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