The work done, we rest
The trouble passes, although not without difficulty
A science of life emerges, but not without pain
Seeking relief we quaff,  but only to a point
Nothing is ready for this, yet I am
It all runs into bleeding colors
Noting the troubles, the unbenevolent gods laugh
All pain is reduced, but only for a time
And the cat is resolutely farting up a storm, or perhaps I am hallucinating the smell

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