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In the beginning was the Word, And the Word was with God, And the Word was God. The Word was a whisper, yet also a shout;
College. Death. Sheer dropoff, cliff A black abyss Never return, no one's ever come back Disappeared, never heard from again Move on, other people What a gift you'll be to some
Let it fly, fly aloneSince it has a formAnd fibres fineMade by hands divineHappy is HeAnd beautiful is itAlways full in dressFinest of all the insectsIs the butterfly!
Listen O' ye weary traveler To my tale of Love and Death. This life is a cruel mistress,
Lambs thrown to lions not yet taught how to run-- stumble and yelp with hopes set to the sun.