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mutato nomine de te fabula narratu
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The fallen death
An unsheathed face.
An unheeded death
The face of death was shown.
And now I could see the face.
It was not vile.
It was no creature.
It was a face.
It was a mirror of mine
But it was lifeless.
It was dead.
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I fell to the ground in disbelief.
What is this?
Is this true?
Is this the true face of death?
I grabbed my head for I had become overwhelmed at what had transpired.
But what is this wetness that I felt on my hand.
It is blood.
Blood on my hand, oh positive, the wound was deep.
Oh positive, the wound was fatal.
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