If the story never ends, will we ever pretend?
Time flows past our everlasting minds, at last.
Secretly screeching for blood, we'll be leeching.
Harmful to us, yet blooming like a lotus.
Sincerely spoken by us, to us, once we've awoken.
Break all ties without masquerading forgotten lies.
Walk through this road croaking like a bloated toad.
Our worldly desires, we'll let them retire.
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