In the end your life is nothing but a fleeting moment of control.
We all return somewhere, you just got an earlier number.
In the end these struggles are meaningless.
Nothing but a moment in the vast echoes of time.
I'll see you again on my journey, someday...
After all we just live these lives, until the number calls for us.
Then we'll meet again, cycle repeating.
In the infinity of time.
Repeating endlessly, the cycles if life.
That fleeting moment when you had something to call your own.
Its just an illusion after all.
As everything numbers to the infinity.
The infinity of the void.
In the end your life was nothing but a fleeting moment of control.
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