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April 4, 2012
Fashioned by myriad guises serving the sanctity of the one, fearing nothing but all, a standard that grief danced about for the rapture of none, for the mystery resolved on coins thrown to dry fountains of mind and soul entwined in prison cells, naked as the one of truest wisdom, wisdom of the one that cannot stand but cower off the salutations made in its honor, the place of a death disguised as the place of life most high... such is the captivating lie, such is the one I lived to die.... for in that death I found my I.