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After you are conceived,
God decides your gender,
Writes the age you will live on this earth,
And settles the amount of provision you will have.
29/9/2029
I believed in right and wrong
I can do it right
I can do it wrong
when I did it right
           I need not a reward
when I did it wrong
           I really need corrections
I am man on my words
sunset blood drains
from transient clouds
as the bone-white moon
hangs in haughty defiance
over a jaundiced prairie

and as the life-giving sun
descends into its earthly grave
centuries of ghosts
whisper their hollow secrets
on the northern wind

they speak only of yesterday
amid the coagulating darkness
having long forgotten
the radiant life of today
and the promise of tomorrow
written for the beautifully empty sunset of 9/27/2020
Wintersun
entered the upstairs library,

In shifts,
heads bowed.

The flickers of remembrance
softly stroked her hair,

Until the dousing of
the final candle

Summoned nightfall
to dance at her funeral party.
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