The paradox is in a box
Please set him free.
He is guilty of purity
And his sinning is a plea.
The paradox has a soul
And is fictitious like mind.
He lives among our story pages
But is not tangible to mankind.
The paradox has gone away
For I have let him out.
He is a very clever vexing one
But I refuse to tout.
The paradox has many holders
Have mercy on their souls.
And have he any mercy on me?
No.
This idea has become cold.
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