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the preface is defaced
it was once
but now is no more
the epilogue is a monologue
an exiting bore

we came, we saw
we were conquered
by ourselves

and as for us
we needed no help
we were equal to the task
now we have no more feet
merely holes
and a smoking gun
breathing its last gasp
hanging limply by our side

and in our hand…
our once clenched fist…

nothing

all spent
no return
non refundable
suicide by number

the religion of maths
a calculated God of our own device

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