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Shades of Yesterday Portraits of time gone by are displayed in the library of my mind, but more visible are the shades of yesterday, still and framed, hanging on the walls of time. I ponder my own creation as i see myself carrying the wounded from the battlefield, but no where can i find my beginning. The world exists but no one admits to its futility, for if the world were only legendary then there would not be a foundation for hatred. Pure goodness is the basis of the celestial sphere, but it does not account for totality. Perhaps no one is utterly complete, but it seems all life...


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