Too few met, and once passed
Never to be kindled,
Faces dance like silhouettes of latent relations within belated eyes
Thoughts compound and constrict the movements held by fate while
Untold truths become nothing more than faded desires
If not experienced through the soul of time
The heart provokes but years of weighted materialization
Bind the tongue and divide the mind
And the self is left formless,
An eidolon upon which double nature blinds.
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