Under the heavy aegis of passing time,
Centuries have become a burden weighing upon the moment,
We are more severed from purity than all the ages,
Corpses of empires, our own decay surrounds us.
History extinguishes under our exhausted breath,
The rasp of nations' deaths becomes a background melody,
The curtain of the universe is torn, moth-eaten,
Through its cracks, we see...
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