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A battle with time,
A tragic paradigm.
Running out of feeling—
Of highs that first times make.
Memories fade, lost in the wake,
Leaving only echoes of what's at stake.

(c) jarred franzine
We live for years of joy and fears,
for a hundred or more tears.
When we die,
tell me, did we truly live or just pass by?

(c) jarred franzine

— The End —