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The Lit.

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The words echo
All they ever do is echo
Some godforsaken phrase
Stolen words, from prophets long ago
TO all those who quote the mighty
And keep them breathing
All which remain of the long forsaken ages
Apocolypse remains ignorant of the power of upon a page
Riddles, rhymes and mellow pricks decaying without enigma
Not condesed to mathematics
Fullstops replace decimal places
And only the poisen wild and untamed
Yours to the reciever
Mellow echoer
Of tenses gone by




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