In Which I Am Incredibly Prescient
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
[ You're too late, comments are closed ]