An inch supports life.
A metallic piece moves just so far.
Like an autumn sky, before storm,
All seems fine, then, chaos.
Gone.
The eye of death looks straight, no emotion it shows,
It performs so well, unconscious of the effect.
Like a child manipulated to steal,
No influence has the eye on the backlash, no opinion on its duty,
Just the operator, manipulating the piece,
Damage, terror, war.
All a result of an inch.
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