Death is fantastically silencing; after which there existed not even the most inconspicuous iota of rambunctious sound; not even the most ethereal traces of malicious cacophony; to disdainfully wake you up from your eternal sleep.
Death is handsomely emancipating; after which you felt neither the most diminutive of agony slandering you; neither the most inexplicably crucifying of worries
tickle your estranged soul.
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