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Nothing left in this barren wasteland. Nothing left in this ghost of a town. The streets are no longer littered with laughter. There's no one alive when the lights all go down.

They'll be no more stories of folklore and dancing,
No more rituals with friends that you thought you once knew.
No more late nights out in the forests of evening,
And no more early mornings of loving, too.

Kiss another year of what you had goodbye,
You're less of a child then you ever were.
And it shall only become more and more certain,
As more of your life shall become a vague blur.