He wanted another chance after a life
interval, wanted another turn of an hourglass
to cover his life. One more turn of a sandglass
once again- reincarnation, retaliation, one more
kiss of death. What was given - sarcophagus,
epitome, epitaph. Simple. Six feet under. Nothing
to worry about time crippling our hands, us being
limp. Once, we dreamt and time may ripple forever.
Yet, it got blunt and it flailed scads of demonic forks.
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