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There are moments in life When things cease to matter. Such moments are rare and valuable, But they cause the worst of the pain. When sun burns with its utmost heat, When you hold a hand And it becomes the most precious thing in the world, When the degree of despair is uncountable, Yet there seems to be no grief acknowledging it. Thus comes the solemnity of the most banal paradox- The intermingling of the purity with evil, Life with death, Scorn with excitement. Memory turns into a petal and drops The minute passes away New life begins.