Beneath the sludge and the ruin, under the edge of the world, within the soul of that ethereal abyss they call the edge of nothing, a dreamer, who began with ambition, having sought to be free from gravity, to break free of death's grip for eternity, now rests his longevity in misery, distraught for what he thought was to be the free flowing spring of beauty and youth is in truth at the base of an inescapable place where only in dreams can we hear his screams, begging and pleading for all to recall that there is no spring without a winter and no winter without a fall.
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