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I am not one but many,
I am not thee who speaks,
I am many listeners
In foretold glory there lies infinite folly,
In untold riches can only be squalor,
Unless you know.
There is only one,
not three.
There are not five, nor six, not even a thousand,
just one.

Triumph in the golden glory that they daylight might follow,
Burn brilliantly in your splendor that the stars might look on.

Be great.