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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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