Drunk on a splash of power,
The puppeteers will play,
Petting their grand delusions,
Dreaming they can stay.
Yet Time is undefeated.
Just ask a pile of bones.
There is no redemption
For a cabal of callous clones.
So build your paper castles.
Pretend they're made of stone.
The shifting sand will swallow.
The Reaper works alone.
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