April 28, 2009
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So what about life and, thereof, my minute?
We exist a whole life,
but we just live a minute.
That minute.
Impeding the potential prime power,
with pending precision
Lashing the last locks for liberation,
least lacking relent.
Thus love for the last,
and last to the eve.
So ever recede,
and cede to the loss.
Then lose all that meant,
and mean what is not.
Still, no trace to follow,
and just Will to spare.

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