Praise and blame are the same
Win or lose, it’s a crying game,
You are satiated, you are starving
You are rising, you are falling,
Here you are on a blue mountain
Halfway up, halfway down,
Stranded and exiled, looking out to sea
Holding onto misplaced gods
And what you might have been,
On the sands of time you waited
Nothing remembered, nothing regretted,
Arches to ashes, doors to dust
Blood resembles the colour of rust-Nausher Nash

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