Such a cruel fate, to bring me to you, the rock for you to lean and gaze upon as if I have anything left within me for you to take. A magnet for the tormented and oh so beautiful to gravitate towards
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Yes, fate... The mortal romanticism of inevitability. Truly, by the passage of time is the Great Unclean One fed, for decay is the insurmountable product of time, and it is in decay that all are joined. This is the beauty of the futile struggle under which we amalgamate as one.
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