VII

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Sometimes it is the dead who pity the living

That their lives are a constant desperate searching yearning craving

Mess of broken thoughts and broken hearts

Self-decapitating persons who cut the life from themselves before the world gets a chance

Sometimes it is the living who pity the dead

That whatever shred of life they are clinging to is unfeeling unknowing unloving

Ashes of life and song and love

Self-manipulating souls who burn the life from themselves after the world had its chance

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