| Infinity, the obvious to existence
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| Aeons beyond it goes on
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| Passes us in bottomless oceans
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| Where sleeps the one to awaken
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| Beneath endless streams of ideas
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| Goes on without a thought
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| Beneath endless dreams, without a life to lose
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| Not all may fit into a lifetime
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| Yet more than one to a dying moment
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| The memory fades, and the old
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| Be reborn
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| In a chasm, of solid stone
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| The echoes breach silences' walls
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| Devouring deep below the solid
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| Time yet come to awaken
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| A premonition of coming days
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| Ominous, dreary dreams of extinction
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| A lonely echo cried:
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| «It is the power, the power behind a name
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| The mind’s shadow that blocks out even the brightest light»
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| If a dream is a shadow
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| The idea, a fragment of the fact
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| If the truth is solid, we are the rupture
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| Not all may fit into a lifetime
|
| Yet more than one to a dying moment
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| The memory fades, and the old
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| Be reformed
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| The light always casts a shadow
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| In darkness it controls
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| In ways man can’t comprehend
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| This world unfolds
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| A premonition of coming days
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| The silence for us it provides
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| The surreality hides us within
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| In darkness we’re disguised
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| And found within we are again |