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Servant to Flavour
The hours fast
Of a decadent past
Fuelled by half-truths
Unable to grip faith
With two hands,
My strength deceives me
If this is where it all ends
Let me take
My final breath
A servant to flavour
With none to save me
From this certain death
Calculated movements against nature
Orchestrating destiny,
The barrel full
The detour far,
The last page of this chapter
The barrel empty.
