Everything is never what it seems,
not our hopes, our dreams.
All are just part of some scheme,
everyone, almost like a team.
Are we just pawns in this game,
never to experience the joy of fame?
Or are we just here to cope,
never to dream, never to hope.
For a truth beyond all the lies,
as we gaze beyond the azure skies.
What is our purpose?
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Chronicles of a Filandrythian
A mysterious red leather book, that seems to want you to read it.
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