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by Cherylmote

by Cherylmote

A fire that burns too bright is not meant to last,

The wind that howls too hard has blown past,

To the river that courses both day and night,

How? With power, patience, perseverance or might?
What happens to those decayed?

Wilted? Debts repaid?

Inventions, innovations, and achievements - what do we gain?

All these unnecessary doings - are we going insane?

~ to the Dead