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Dwindled are the flowers of hope
Returned to purpose by the rope
Times grimy hand
That reashores
The choice is not mine or yours.
But each much choose
And we all must pay
For we all have an allotted day
A window in this space and time
Which does not care if withered or prime.
Dwindled are the flowers of hope
That have no purpose without rope.
For those of you lost at sea
For those of you lost …. at sea.
The End.

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