Al romantic in his grave awaiting immortality
the scholar and skeptic
scratching the truth,
to Nobody, and Nothing All
the wind carry them away, forgotten and works
the cosmos remained, dissolved Statues
eternity begging
dead never die so long as the sweep
the treasure of the wise,
civilization and triviality,
are simply this: Just
Nothing and nothing else. And again maybe
ports
history, in another corner to tie, but not
flee from the tax,
to reach the desert garden,
Turning the eternal cycle ... Mil
beginning, an end.
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