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Your life is never lost.

The leap of faith,
A synapse,
The signal sprints across,
A message is never lost.

Etched in gold
the signal is sound,
The train shouts
and runs off.

A gentle acceleration,
You block out the light,
but the waves let you know,
Time would continue its flight.

Perhaps in desperation you twitch,
But your eyelids confirmed what the
son of a stonemason coined long ago,
You know the train is gone.

And yet there you stand beside the tracks,
The passengers are but a pixel in the distance,
You stand and look across the gap,
These tracks were just a hurdle, you realize

The leap of faith,
A synapse,
The signal sprints across,
Your life is never lost.

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