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Cadence Without Communication
Maybe it was
Mercy
That drove you away
Even were it
Simple Chance
That turn of fortune is fucked.
At least, the very least
You earned a shot,
Not to compete, or
Chase, though you may have,
In the end
The end came swift
Which is probably true
For us all.
And so, young man,
Very young man,
Your purity is your beauty,
Your legacy
Truly untouchable
Now.
