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A whisper, coyly bated,
betrays the serpent's breath,
and the silence following
leaves just time enough
for due consternation
and a farewell to regret.

I am the red worm
of unassailable conviction,
absolute guilt
and the damning awareness
that, tear this old world down
and raise it up as before,
despite the lesson of memory,
with inevitable precision
you'd find the serpent once more.
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