| Planetary spirals on the verge of dissipating into ether
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| Withering species, antonyms of eternity
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| Astonished by the visions of chaos in spiral motion
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| For we are bound to the forge of finitude
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| Branded by the forge yet blessed with the promise of free will,
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| Destined to return and engulf the cosmic foundry
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| Elliptical orbits slide through wormholes
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| Dragging planets in their wake,
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| Reverberations of agony permeate the very essence of matter
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| Rhetoric winds consume these barren wasteland
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| Even when corpses are erased by vermin and oblivion,
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| We still worship the vultures of destruction
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| Hail to thee, vultures of elimination
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| We linger in a state of caustic incubation
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| Cathode cages are built to purge
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| Our Vitruvian sense of belonging
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| Trapped in the shadow of long-lost memories
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| For we are bound to the forge of finitude,
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| The source that creates yet dictates
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| All things must eventually end |