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The Shape Of Things To Come

'tis not anymore a wonder,
The shape of things to come.
For the fiery cauldron of life
Does not give a chance.

All things will be lost
And a requiem is all we’ll hear
Of the loves we have had,
Of the times we chose to remember.

Then when time chooses to turn the face
Faces that shone will fade
Into shadows and silhouettes that quiver
Turning that we’ve held close
Into sheer nothingness.

by Praveen Rao

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