Partaking in a fit of rage, the existing pursue a convention of lies;
Their bathroom mildew grows clearly on their heads.
I control a better part of them, the existing.
I feel their fevers, contaminating the essence of fire.
Curse those snakes! Streaking mud upon my floors,
Exemplary though, their hiding.
I follow their marks into the graveyard,
The existing are there pursuing, pursuing,
And here I am, existing, existing.
Curse those snakes!

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