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Laughter

Ghostlimb

As simple as this all may seem
The doctrines and constructs work more easily
When clinging to the vestiges
Of youth, or familial obligation
A search for truth, through a blurry xeroxed repetition
A bitter ruse of heavenly competition
Remember everyday, when you wake up
You're the product of, flesh and blood
So don't cry, there's no hell when you die