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Feb 19
In a mysterious shroud, I find you
without recollection, I now come
with an honest song, to bid adieu.

But when I smell the burning oil
a gentle fear does creep on me
of fights we wage and lifelong toil
that leads to nowhere but the soil.

The ballad caught up with you and in the endnotes
no fuel is left, but neon glowing posts
of a far unknown life, to my belief,
reduced to nothing but a universal grief.

your loss demands a modest rhyme of words  
and an impossible reprise at most,
which will remain forever out of grasp–
a vital mystery unsolved by us.
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