T.S.Eliot: The Wasteland. You are a desperate cry
to God, moulded in intricate word-craftmanship.
Your language is controlled, but inside, you
feel empty and are not content with your life.
You see both the world and your inner self as a
waste land: nothing good can come out of it
anyway. People find you difficult to understand
but admire you nevertheless.
Which literature classic are you?
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