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We scintillate like cedar stones,
In plasma veil as ancient ones.
In cold war years you were my fears,
But just to gain the power to reign.
Satan's blood in our veins,
The pig-faced mud will be slain.
But no one dies when black seas dry,
And no one kill, Forever this will.
Our wisdom be.
Now you're asking;
"What are you living for?"
No sense of life,
And none afterwards.
What I call wisdom is a flower,
That can seldom be found.
But not in illusions,
You only use to find a way out.