Within this living entity, of unchanging, uncaring degradation over sanctity,
I have bespoke upon your enchanted melancholic mind.
For your reality over thy implication, is but the differentiation over time,
Time's lost placement upon your hesitant intricacies within mine.
As with all of life's lost recitation, we can only begin to describe.
That which is implemented within our enticing binds,
For with that, you have made the decision that is final to this transition,
That we have nothing to declare, without the persecution of the divine.
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