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Sometimes the stain will shatter
for some the fog will lift
for me it was the latter
lost in space adrift
I held my life in sand
as grains rolled to shift
beheld a silver platter
that bore a humble gift
aiming not to flatter
or build a stage so grand
mainly just to scatter
those grains held in my hand
they formed a sphere of glass
with a crimson band
some subtle notes of brass
and then it all did fade
yet seldom visions pass
I took a trip unplanned
one evening on the grass
now an immortal brand
that evening in the glade
my earthly pains decayed
just a shell to aid
as the Abyssal Bade

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