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Wandering through the chaos the battle has left, We climb up a mountain of human flesh, To a plateau of green grass, and green trees full of life. A young figure sits still by a pool, He's been stamped "Human Bacon" by some butchery tool. (He is you) Social Security took care of this lad. We watch in reverence, as Narcissus is turned to a flower. A flower? From Letras Mania