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Perfection

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Sought out like the last flames of a soul that once was.
Swarmed upon like the last hours of daylight to a time deprived man;
Thought into by those to weary to except or not full of light;
Searched for by many, found by none;
Claimed by some, owned by none.
Doted upon those thought into existence or those set upon a pedestal so high;
But naught can lay claim to this unattainable existence;
For it is unattainable, after all.




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