Ask not how it came to be, you are what you are.
Go forth into the oblivion.
Perish in the abundance.
Hide what you know.
But when you can't recognize yourself don't look at me.
I see a flower in your soul.
I wouldn't dare admire it.
Maybe I would paint the picture of an innocent beauty
Destroyed by being conscious of itself,
And look at it, thinking, "Now that is stunning."
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