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So pithy, epigrammatic, ephemeral is the extent of human life,
Fleeting and evanescent,
Insignificant and banal.
Yet such a plenitude of inconsequential ado,
Frivolous wastes of precious energy,
A remuneration to atrophy,
Incentive of demise.
A minute glimmer of hope,
A brief instant of elation,
This is what we live for.