Decay
^Truth is the smallest of all cays.
Surrounded by blood waters of the past...
The dorsal fins of doubt and deception.
Only the brave dare to take the chance.
To swim out to it and fend off the thrash.
Most would rather stay where they're at.
With the plush comforts of the arrogant mainland.
Suckling poison fruits of ego and half-truths...
Then sashay upon the decay of the damned^
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