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The time is true,
and close at hand,
when Fury's men,
will take a stand.
They see no truth,
yet carry their way,
of stone and wood,
of straw and hay.
On their backs,
is baskets strong,
the heavy load,
that carries wrong.
The imps will build,
this house of fame,
which defeats the men,
which gods can't tame.
The time has come,
no men can see,
the passage way,
to the aprés vie.
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