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Prelude
by Will Cookson

The moon was hiding in the trees
The stars were drowning in the sea
And all our memories were dreams
And all our tragedies just scenes performed a thousand times before

Of all the paths that led to now
So many angles would show us how
This geometry has shaped our minds
Where all the numbers will combine to prove that I'm the same as you

So many paths have led to now

Contributed by Sophia E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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