“… AFTER THE WAR, EVERYBODY WAS IN THE RESISTANCE. WHILE POPPIES GROWN ON COMRADES’ GRAVES SERVED PAINFREE DISTILLATIONS OF BATTLEFIELD REMEDIES, NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO OUTPACE THE RHTYHM LACERATING MODERNIST MINDS INTO CUBIST CODES OF REFUGE AND CONFORMITY, NEVER MEANT TO CURE THE PAIN ANYWAY, JUST MEANT TO DULL THE MIND INTO ACCEPTANCE OF BATTLES WON YET MOMENTUM LOST, TO THE GRINDING WHEELS OF TIME, THE GRINDING MOLARS OF EARTH GODDESS AS MINDSETS ARE CONSUMED IN PASSION’S CAULDRON
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