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May 12
One hundred eons from now,
when they vacuum our atoms,
and pull all the suns down,
the dust, like comets,
will flow, but settle,
against my heart,
in caged, cold metal.

The mother ship behind me,
in eternal journey, consumes all
in search of the key.

Yet it does not know your face,
in this limited light spectrum,
best nor do I, for keeping it safe.
For true affection,
you need not chase;
you were born in perfection,
everlasting grace.

In this short life,
we know only our flesh,
in all waking hours,
running circles, at best
and call this success..

Once it all begins again,
and the walls go up,
carved in stone-like strength,
to protect precious time,
man's greatest construct,
I'll tell the gods you're mine,
and they'll beam you back up.

On and on it goes,
until we prove our worth.
I'd go round and round,
in perpetual millennia ,
until your soul gives birth.
The right ONE is worth more than so many mistakes.
Written by
ᗩᑎᑎᗩᒪIᔕᕮ  24/F
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