He goes; it follows your steps, the last of your ephemeral destiny that, disguised there is a lot desire for you. In spite of the masks that you invented, that you inculcated in your face, to the end of your terrestrial adventure, he will close up the last mask of your misfortune. Oh! Only now, in the end, you don't want to perish, you resist, you don't want to go, and in your last moment probes an inhuman effort, reinforcement of living. You go definitively and you see the distant love to waive you for sinking of your Titanic.
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