Each smile is but an illuminated stage,
Masking the Magician's thousand deaths;
Deaths, which created life as he knows it
And half-lives, burnt out in cardioactivity.
The Magician crafts illusions of reality,
And his audience, mesmerized at times
Usually succumbs to the greed of his tricks.
Alas! illusions vanish; and
The man is the magic.
My Magician,
May you keep returning
on this day...again and again;
Deaths hurt a lot these days.
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