Death.

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As all figures of life go
One will fall and one will rise
Figures of hate and despise
Some are high and some are low
Shapes of love and surprise
You won't know what happens
Or to where it leads
You follow it anyway
With an arm that fights
And a leg that bleeds
You'll do what you want
And what you need
Anything in your body
Just to gain speed
Hair of elders goes grey
Winds of wisdom make things fray
A few hearts go astray
Though one thing they don't realise
The flow of a river
The rise of a sun
The wind of a storm
And the shot of a gun
They will all reach a spot
Where they end their massive plot
But one thing remains I suppose
You'll remember the sound of a croak
And the smell of a rose.

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