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Even through the mist,
The fog of fear and loathing,
I can still see the end.
When and where it comes
Is a matter of who you believe,
And who you are.
All things must come,
And pass in time,
Without warning.
The cracks are showing even now,
In the glass walls separating us
From ourselves.
Keeping us from things that
Distort reality,
And promote inequity and outright lies.
Lie to yourself if you must,
But realize that in the end,
The truth lies inside each of us.
If we could only find it…
Believe it…
And not deny it…
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