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MATRICIDE SPACERIDE Oh how to measure my star struck tattered treasure? Quasi tears or mock lightyears? For it seems like eons As I still cling on To hope this black hole disappears. His Grace is the space suit I put on each morn. Undeserved kindness implodes every cell. While my quest is to see him as God does: Reborn! Yet my "Gee" force feels the pangs of this hell. There are no alibis for your galactic lies, And nano promises you never keep. Is death what it takes for your passions to awake? Stellar love in our final sleep? I don't know why self can't warp nine and die; Jettison my reason to weep! Earth reentry on this note: On you, my heaven, hopes float. Grace a Dieu, My vessel is still yours to keep. |
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