The cosmos speak, the cosmos speak and under my lost breath they sing. A martyr in the shadows who holds a secret beneath his wing acts a stingy pest as well. A human figure dancing aimlessly below the falling waters of a river, who calls and jests and rocks the notes from left to right --he sings as well. A star so distant, so perfectly essence'd, a danger he himself hold; the caution sky takes when creeping in circumlocution about his tips, pointing tips about the shining color. Do you see their similar? ...their satirical matter? A courtroom of folly tantrums who laugh when shining color is unpoised. A ranch fitting a verse of one, too big to expand, filled with cosmos future telling... |
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