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Oblivion

A wisp of smoke,
A grain of dust,
He came and he spoke,
To nothigness thence did he dissapear.

He lived,
He rode,
He laughed and spread a cheer.
Yet his parting craved to draw a reminse of a tear.

This he sees,
This he feels,
To oblivion shall be his parting
This he very well knows.

He laughs,
He still spreads the cheer.
For him the world shrinks to every soul he holds dear.

Yet one day he will be gone,
From the world of men
To the golden throne.

Thither shall his fate lie
Thither shall he shed his tears.
To the unwitting eye,
He spreads naught but a cheer.

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