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Last Sands
The last sands of his hourglass fall
Followed by the cold rain and Death Angel's call
The taste turns bitter as the night beats day
Because he
Played God on a shooting star
Sailed across the cosmos but still didn't get far
Then had the nerve to ask for another
To examine his growing and countless mistakes
And he
Caught on just a little too late
Was an inch from the door to escape the fate
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