Why look for a pattern in the whole

And split the soul?

Some things just are.

I know when fate knocks

My socks off

I won’t ask why...

I’ll be very annoyed

But still- I’ll die,

Stop stock-still

Without a breath;

A fraction of a life,

A whole load of death.

Into myself and one

With the cycle of time;

I’ll become the prime.

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