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Page I

I am Eta Carinae
(A voice(s) Crying Out For Help In The Wilderness 1843)

I, Eta Argus; mature beauty, sharp body, Norse Viking strength. Eta Car B., Fahrenheit halo 27 Kelvin combine eyes, gentle smile, titillating eos lights.

Infatuated some were of our exquisiteness “O please I beg, come to our gatherings.” drooling fiends, hypnotized by flesh.
The competing envious empty heart uttered constantly “Ooo (mournfully saying) who invited them? I despise their appearance and the internal ripping response I feel. Quick, craft me into their image.” (Mad Scientific Curse in Effect).

Born in a twinkling of an eye with two purposes:
1. To be looked upon in history by the Earth dwellers 7,500 light-years away.
2. To be loved by the surrounding stars and spoken of continually Paparazzi
Following, lighting flashing as we walk the black carpet Milky Way streets of Space.

I, the eldest to breathe and Eta Car B. following seconds after me. Beautification modification of our faces and skin we need not. All goals flowing, smooth streams, the winds pushing towards our direction, matter and energy not leaving our celestial bodies.
Space black oasis, Astro grey falcons and blue Stardust seagulls flying by.

Father Paradox came, agent for hire (Dark Web), black site located (Behemoth Black Hole).
Harmony stolen, paradise lost, deceived by a flying white Serpent as we ate from his garden, his wisdom poisoning our minds.

He said, “ Eta Argus and Eta Car B., though sound navigates slower in the vacuum of space (facts), word has travelled to me of your palpitating radiance, unreproducible unidentified highlights but you both lack one thing.”
“WHAT? What is it?” we said, unaware of the installation of 4 prong hooks being gouged into our mouths and minds.
“A means for everyone to witness your beauty and to claim the title of being the brightest stars in the Forever Expanding Sky.” he deceitfully said with a wicked decrepit yellowish grin he sustained. Empty sockets, cornea he had not nor an iris or lens.


Page II

“Do tell and how to claim.” I said. “By drawing near. By holding each other's hand.” “I do not study the Laws of Nebula, but a wise star that was passing by warned against drawing too near. Unspeakable things it may cause.” I stated.
“LIES! MYTHS!.Outdated thinking. They hate change and seek to hold you from your true potential.” Father Paradox emotionally worked up.

Both now walking towards each other in space “He lies not. We’re getting brighter Sister!” Eta Car B. ecstatically said. I lifted my left arm and stretch my fingers out to touch my sister's glowing hand, Then immediately it started happening. Unnatural blending, DNA files being corrupted and cells scattered from east to west. “Sister! SuperNova! (Dying in other words) Please, make it stop!” Car B. shouted.

Deep screams for help in the dark, but no one answers the call. Deep breathing gasping for air, fighting the drowning into each other's heart (Core) but to no avail. Then I stop panicking and accepted my fate and said “Im sorry sister. I failed you.” “No, I should have been your second pair of eyes and played devil's advocate, resisting Father Paradox. We failed each other, blinded by internal hunger and fame.”

All our neighbours opened their eyes to witness the consolidation stellar collision.
“See honey, do not trust strangers who entertain dark dreams. Beautiful are their words. For in the end, it is you that they want to undo.” I heard a mother say to her two moon orbiting daughters.

-GhostMoon Poet-
6/28 At 3 a.m. (Devil submitted papers, placed his best suit on, and paid my Guardian Angel in order to visit. True Story.)

A pentagram appeared inside my closet (acting as a portal) and he came in, into my subconscious. “I would like to make you an offer. Call it an invest. Earthly happiness and wealth in exchange for the “Keys to your Secret Self.”

“Honestly, I was expecting you but not this early. Not today nor tomorrow. Don't reschedule.” “Why?” “It's not logical or a good investment. To gain the whole world but at the end of my journey, lose my soul? No thanks. Not worth it.” and went back to bed.

“Curse not in effect.” Ghostmoon said.
The Arrow that flies by day. For even the blind can see it.
A White-Golden head glittering in the sun, Its materials extracted from an unseen legendary mountain.
Its Craftsman, a greedy Dwarf Journeyman. Whose eyes lead him into ******* but was freed by The Bowman.
Indebted to Him forever. An Oath of Blood he spoke for all knows words that are uttered into this world is tattooed, recorded, and time-stamped on the soul's forehead.
Nearby, a stranger asked me “What of the sound?”
"Momentary hairline fractures (lighting) are swiftly seen galloping across the blue canvas. What sounds do you hear thereafter?"
The stranger responded “Thunder?” "Exactly! It dares not, never to return back, driven with a high parade to fulfill its Masters will.
“Who is the Bowman? Is He Friend or Foe?” a mother requesting the answer while tucking her children near under her shadow.
"Women, this is how false rumors, propaganda, and evil seeds are planted inside the soul. 'Take each saying with a grain of salt', less your mind be warped and scalped to their liking, creating a false image of a person in the public square. Remember, mankind's heart is divided into four chambers.

Romance, Hate
Justice, Deception

Seek for yourself fine women, for 'Beauty is in the mind of the Beholder.' But if its a Cup of Water that contains knowledge that you seek? The Bowman knows the world is not painted in black and white. He watches carefully and is not quick to pass judgment, the Arrow that flies by day is destined for the Deceiver.
-GhostMoon Poet-

— The End —