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There’s a story with no title, that no one ever read.
On a bookshelf filled with dust and dreams, it lies on aching dread.
There’s no title to this story, for the title is long gone.
The abyss waits for its redemption, like an everlasting song.
It’s a story you can’t read, for the title makes it weed.
It’s just like all the others, appearing in a time of absolutely zero need.
There’s no story to this title, no action, no beginning and just nothing here to learn.
It’s just a story like no other. With no title, no meaning and it’s just absurd.