It was a permanency
In a life lined deep with transience and need
A distinct lack of urgency
In the midst of all this conflicted, scripted speed
A rock among the weeds
To grasp when time or tide decide to twist
A consistent to believe
While insistent that this fiction would persist
And now that it is lost
We wallow in this brittle artificial
And now that it is gone
Remaining screams out fickle superficial
It was a permanency
And now it is no more
And thus, with trust and certainty
It is ours to stand much taller
Than we ever stood before
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