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Ten Thousand Hundred Times

Christian Death

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What monstrous chaos
You were a youngster who succumbed
To the ravages of old age
And I am assailed by the ellipse
As spoken in due season

Children reserve your paron
A blessing, before the carcasses of rot
Beautiful little child open your eyes
Pull the angel's face close to your mouth
Cannot your wings sense a remote flight

Walls of dust in an illusion of voice
There exists infinity
As bequeathed to you
For the thousandth time
Is only an instant
And you are everything that ever lived

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