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And there beneath the thunderous roar of the screaming crowds my sword crosses yours one of us has to die and so I offer my throat with the hope you do the best you can-
Time tells, you see, the most persistent of illusions, and it seems at the end of things I do believe.
Time tells, you see, the most persistent of illusions, and it seems at the end of things I do believe.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 460 B
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