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  • A child plays with a blueish orbe

    Green grass under chubby feet

    A cinch of serene air’s all around

    No muggles nor humdrums about

    Just a few pebbles and stone

    Hurdling in the scatter and gather

    No waning corridors came to pass

    Nor vitriol, nay obliteration, only

    Sun and light, an unblemished anima

    Of time

    a cherub…

    Aeons of frolic with the odds

    As if making flouting ripples

    Over the certitude of epilogues

    All voiced he would weaken away

    That brio was not to awake again

    That capitulation was undoubted

    But he even now frisks with all indigo

    And the grass regerminates even greener

    As life still springs up lungly impossible

    Of immortality

    a newborn…

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