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BREATH IS PEACE

The tender thread weaves itself,

Through the miasma of death and disease.


Each weave a prayer.

Pulling together,


The fraying fabric of human endurance

That reaches for the stars

And surveys the furthest reaches of the cosmos.


Exulting in its own curiosity,

And growing hubris.


Watching it crumble,

In the dust of its own mortality.


Remember, the tender thread weaves itself,

Through the miasma of death and disease.


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