Every few, favoured by the world's pain of change, move between roles of timelessness in the retreat of palpable consternation, revealing their own actions without understanding. Carefully granting all that is given, the distant sound of the world pauses. The rule of time's finiteness escapes the knowledge of faith, spurns the abundance of deception. Guided by the senses' openness, the wise hone the one knowledge, granting eternity. Those, the measure of things overhand, roam moulded by the image of the call, insulted by the background of the self.
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