sjsprWriting
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Not the End
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Stars shine,wither and die.
Rivers flow and dry up.
Flowers grow and perish.
One day our footprints will be gone
Swept up by the gentle breeze
Our memories just a whisper in the spectrum of thought.
But all there will be left is the tales of our legacies and love
Carved in the history books
Long alive, the fire still burns
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