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Cernunos the forgotten god
the misjudged, the demonized one by younger folk,
naive folk that sunk in prejudices.  
Cernunos, called the cursed one from that very same folk
that forgot nature.

Here is the voice of the God
By Ram by Bull by Stag
I am the hunter in the wild, the horned one,the healer,
protector of nature and master of the sun.
I am balance.
I am older
No longer strangled by
blinded naivete
with a smudge
of silly
embracing the white
invasion
in every crevice
of my body
I am a glacier
receding into
the extinction of Me
Now that I am closer
to the fervent void
I will savor
this child free air
a crone and a mystery
to thee
Here all the choice that lay beforith

To eat thereof the tree of life an **** it as thy bask fatted in the glory of a newborn star

Or to abstain there frometh an look inside eternal black thusly with knowledge that your stomach's redeeming feast is but a headturn away
Poetry starts in the womb.

Every cell division is a vibration of life.

And, every vibration is a poetry of  life.
In sleep,  everyone is a saint.
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