Revere the Maker; cherish the made
Here lies wisdom
The door lies at the end of the path.
Who will gather? Many.
Who will finish? Few.
The grower will take time.
The grower will bring light.
The grower will have Ages.
Take time, and move it to and fro.
Bring light, and give it to the dark places.
Have Ages, and link to them without bindings.
Loud cries yet again.
Can it be made? No.
We mourn our loss.
No one sees.
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