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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Philosophy >> ID #1554378 |
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IN THE END
Waves lap at the shattered shore where journeys of forgotten lore ended with the trumpets' sound that ran it into the misty ground. Not much later, naught was left. Nothing survives Time's lofty heft. The world goes on, but life does not. The past is only what time forgot. As much so is mine own life: it matters not what manner of strife that runs through my mind and through my heart as it is pierced by Cupid's dart. So one must wonder, what is true? The myth of Love or what we do? In the end it matters not, for victory is what time has got.
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