Seeming to decipher,
The count of the sample,
Whether white, red or dead,
It appears, each is ample,
The blood of our lives,
Not the fluid, arterial,
But the beings, among them,
Usurped the toy in your cereal,
Their daily appearance,
At the start of your day,
Then emerging in time,
As the sun went away,
Their cohabitation,
With you, not by choosing,
But the result of divinity,
And the...
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