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"luminously" poems
in the middle of the dark dreary night, i sigh and remembered our fondness flight. you were my sun who brought light into my cold and lifeless night. and i was your moon seeing that no matter what i do my life will always revolve around you. you were my light who tauten up the day and make the bad go away. you showed me your gleam in my gloomy hour and soothed my soul. you shone too bright consequently my skin reddened and blistered. the pain came out on what was just proposed to be good. in spite of that, the wounds eventually healed and you continued to light my way in this world. as the time passed by you continued painting the starry night sky into a bright blue sky. you died every night just to let me breathe and live the night. i know it makes no sense but the two of us were lost in the past. reminiscing our wounds,  the agony grew bigger and deeper. as we revolved around our range, we were alone in our voyage. you were my sun that showered the hills with orange, yellow light and waking everything up and i was your moon who couldn't never reached your light for it was fiery illuminated. your light had gotten dimmer in my eyes up until the raging fire that i had once felt for you— shrunk and diminished. in the middle of the dark dreary night, i looked back on our enchantment. it was a fate when we met but our time were hard to catch and our days never match. as i was the moon dancing with the stars glowingly and luminously, our lips met softly. just like an eclipse, our love created darkness. while hours felt like minutes, it was enough. whilst it was just a short period of time, it was all worthwhile. you were my sun and i was your moon and we were never supposed to collide, but now we coexist as one. and when the time was gone, we drifted apart. tell me, how am i ever supposed to forget the one that illuminates me?
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Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 3:16 PM UTC
sol y luna
in the middle of the dark dreary night, i sigh and remembered our fondness flight. you were my sun who brought light into my cold and lifeless night. and i was your moon seeing that no matter what i do my life will always revolve around you. you were my light who tauten up the day and make the bad go away. you showed me your gleam in my gloomy hour and soothed my soul. you shone too bright consequently my skin reddened and blistered. the pain came out on what was just proposed to be good. in spite of that, the wounds eventually healed and you continued to light my way in this world. as the time passed by you continued painting the starry night sky into a bright blue sky. you died every night just to let me breathe and live the night. i know it makes no sense but the two of us were lost in the past. reminiscing our wounds,  the agony grew bigger and deeper. as we revolved around our range, we were alone in our voyage. you were my sun that showered the hills with orange, yellow light and waking everything up and i was your moon who couldn't never reached your light for it was fiery illuminated. your light had gotten dimmer in my eyes up until the raging fire that i had once felt for you— shrunk and diminished. in the middle of the dark dreary night, i looked back on our enchantment. it was a fate when we met but our time were hard to catch and our days never match. as i was the moon dancing with the stars glowingly and luminously, our lips met softly. just like an eclipse, our love created darkness. while hours felt like minutes, it was enough. whilst it was just a short period of time, it was all worthwhile. you were my sun and i was your moon and we were never supposed to collide, but now we coexist as one. and when the time was gone, we drifted apart. tell me, how am i ever supposed to forget the one that illuminates me?
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5
This brown buff speckled throstle of a bird sits in the higher most branches of a yet to be leafed poplar tree . . . and sings. Such a song in the April morning air it greets the day, celebrates the rising sun. Above a suburban street the bird’s song catches the reverberation of a double row of houses, their windows bouncing sonic reflections of unaccompanied melismata.   Olivier Messiaen loved this bird for its répétition égale. Walking the mountain woods around his summer home he would wonder that the grive musicienne could make so exactly repetition after repetition of a complex phrase. A proto-minimalist perhaps? The male mistle thrush appears in several ***** works but most prominently in Saint Francois d'Assis singing luminously on the clarinet.   Although this is the ungregarious male singing away on this spring morning his name carries a female designation Turdus Philomelos. Poor Philomel, whose name means one who loved song, she was a princess of Athens lusted after by King Tereus who took her to a cottage in distant woods and ***** her. Then, he cut out her tongue.   Vengeful Philomel alone in the woods, but a most resourceful and artistic young woman, she set about weaving a tapestry that told all.   *‘She set up a Tracian loom And wove on a white fabric scarlet symbols That told in detail what had happened to her*.’   She sent the finished piece to Tereus who promptly ordered Philomel's death and that of her sisters (one of whom he was married to). As the girls were about to be slain they were changed magically into three birds . .   Joanna Laurens play The Three Birds takes the only fragment we have of Sophocles telling of this strange tale. Laurens is both musician and linguist and the text is a marvel of strange sounds and rhythms as the sisters communicate with each other in their personal private language akin, it is said, to Jersiese, an ancient Breton dialect.   So thank you dear song thrush for this morning's wonder: a song sans pariel.
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Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
Turdus Philomelos
This brown buff speckled throstle of a bird sits in the higher most branches of a yet to be leafed poplar tree . . . and sings. Such a song in the April morning air it greets the day, celebrates the rising sun. Above a suburban street the bird’s song catches the reverberation of a double row of houses, their windows bouncing sonic reflections of unaccompanied melismata.   Olivier Messiaen loved this bird for its répétition égale. Walking the mountain woods around his summer home he would wonder that the grive musicienne could make so exactly repetition after repetition of a complex phrase. A proto-minimalist perhaps? The male mistle thrush appears in several ***** works but most prominently in Saint Francois d'Assis singing luminously on the clarinet.   Although this is the ungregarious male singing away on this spring morning his name carries a female designation Turdus Philomelos. Poor Philomel, whose name means one who loved song, she was a princess of Athens lusted after by King Tereus who took her to a cottage in distant woods and ***** her. Then, he cut out her tongue.   Vengeful Philomel alone in the woods, but a most resourceful and artistic young woman, she set about weaving a tapestry that told all.   *‘She set up a Tracian loom And wove on a white fabric scarlet symbols That told in detail what had happened to her*.’   She sent the finished piece to Tereus who promptly ordered Philomel's death and that of her sisters (one of whom he was married to). As the girls were about to be slain they were changed magically into three birds . .   Joanna Laurens play The Three Birds takes the only fragment we have of Sophocles telling of this strange tale. Laurens is both musician and linguist and the text is a marvel of strange sounds and rhythms as the sisters communicate with each other in their personal private language akin, it is said, to Jersiese, an ancient Breton dialect.   So thank you dear song thrush for this morning's wonder: a song sans pariel.
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10
To the moon and back you professed. But….. The Crescent moons edge drains me as it pierces my flesh. To the moon and back you pledged. Only…. The new moon is heavy now, smothering, as it presses down on my chest. To the moon and back you alleged. Except…. The full moons beam blinds me as it steals my fight . Luminously I am led to my emotional death…. I love you to the moon and back, he said
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
To the Moon and Back
In the East, the sun luminously gleamed And bid the nebulous vapors fly Changing the gloom into radiant blaze Cheering the languid drowsy sky Lying in bed, I looked around, Saw my room so cozily set With things just enough to make it fit For a sweet haven for me to rest Each little thing in it began to muse In a language discernible for me to grasp Of the secret of success so elusive to man Which striving to catch, oft slips off his clasp The clock ticking away at the wall Alerted in a tone of rhythmic resonance That ‘each minute is precious and dear’ And not to waste it in trifling appurtenance While the ceiling fan, spiraling above Discreetly hummed, “Be cool and do not fret” The open window, to me did urge To ‘look out far and watch the world in beat’ The mirror neatly fitted on my bureau With a gleaming countenance beckoned me Asking me to ‘reflect’, ere venturing into anything That from fatal fallacies, I shall ever be free The calendar hanging inside the room Reminded me not to lag or put off things But keep my assignments and learning up to date That to great heights, I can soar on wings And the woolly carpet gently mused; “Bend your knees and kneel down to pray With a heart copiously filled in gratitude Before a God who didn’t leave you aimless to stray" With such counsel, silent and salient Got out of my bed with resolutions profound To greet the morning and start the day In greater zest with a mind, saner and sound
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Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 6:49 AM UTC
Morning Musings
With your satiny hairs, You amble without a normal foot. But with a pristine look, Your big eyes shines luminously. Dear, Maybe people call you a handicap, I call those bullocks a madcap. Interestingly, what, I am a handicap mentally, here I reveal. Everyday I fight inside the close door when night falls. A few days ago your eyes have cried a lot, Let me clear here, you are a daring person. It gives me a reason to fight with his servants openly. You are a bizarre, I don't know you Monica Sharma. Though we did not shook our hands at all, But whenever these eyes squints you, A new story creates a History...
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
It creates a story in me..
thank you for signing in in between the signs thank you for leaving space luminously empty thank you for listening to the masterpiece of silence thank you for quoting quantum leaps while twirling the hairs on my chest thank you for choosing azure and the network of spring so emphatically thank you for collecting the echoes of a single dewdrop with the presence of a child thank you for creating miracles and bubbles: 360° thank you for breathing flashy ******* passionately thank you for your interstellar plexus and your solar torus dewdrop glass, thy name thank you for wordplaying magnifying fiery patterns (dewdrop glass, 2017 christian sonnenklar)
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 7:14 AM UTC
dewdrop glass
Dusty old and gray Always either spinning or perfectly still It creaks when it spins Like the bones of an elderly woman   One bulb is almost burnt out flickering on and off Wanting the motivation to stay alive but losing it anyway Losing it, Losing it, and now this bulb has run out of light Now encompassed in darkness Two bulbs remain shining so luminously Optimistic like they’ll never burn out unknowing the impending darkness to come that they are unable to pause unable to slow unable to stop I’ve never seen a ceiling fan and it’s bulbs like this before
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:30 PM UTC
Ceiling fan
Serenity of the Buddha fountain graces our garden His wise presence flows steadily over thorns, thistle and rocks that jut across the pathway creating obstacles in our lives There was turmoil, misery, calamity in His generation just like today The Ravanas of our time prowl earth’s gardens seeking to abduct and ravage goodness, love, purity, truth Illustrious Gautama gained the perfect peace that passeth understanding by treading the middle path and realizing that pushing the envelope indulging in all types of extreme behavior sabotages our mental, emotional and physical well being He declared to His disciples as they wandered through the world that desire is the cause of all suffering and like the Master Jesus encouraged them “to be in the world not of it” This He knew could be actualized by the right use of the senses, loving, compassionate service to mankind and having a still, tranquil mind through the process of meditation Twilight dusk blankets the garden The Buddha twinkling under a panorama of evening stars a crystal ball spinning luminously in his hands illumines our beaten path from His radiant pedestal, beneath the Bodhi tree “The Sun of Enlightenment Shines”
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Garden of No Grief
Imagine You're an adorable dolphin Your cute fin! You're ecstatic about watery Corals And Aquamarine You sport and swiftly swim And swim You dance with the white horses You sing in the tempest Imagine You're the lovely hyacinth You enhance The elegance Of a gorgeous Garden Your evocative Perfume Is mind-blowing! Imagine You're a sweet skylark Your pleasant tone is Magically melodious Imagine You're the silvery rain You remove the pain Of the heat of the sun Imagine You're the splendid Rainbow You feel a glow Of colour You've the VIBGYOR You are Never Evanescent Imagine You're the Breeze You blow nicely You're more Than invisibility Imagine You're the lamplight The djinn And obscurity Fear you You're luminously bright! Imagine You are FARAH TASKIN!!!;) You own The evergreen Realm of fancy!:)
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Jun 11, 2021
Jun 11, 2021 at 7:21 AM UTC
Wings of Fantasy!
How can I confess, The perplexity of the way you make me feel. The way your soul indelibly connects with mine; Or the way my thoughts devour you. The way your words caress my insides; The way your laugh brings warmth to my chest. Like a fire that blazes so luminously, You are my light. I had once said, That we are taught not to play with fire. But I'd gladly get burnt, If it meant eternity with you.
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
You
Our hearts are locked, how could we set them free? For sure with the remembrance of God, our hearts are filled with glee. Don't let your mind get crowded, and the judgements of people get in your way. Breath in, take it easy before it gets flooded, one step at a time, if you may. Our hearts are like sparkly gems, even if we cannot comprehend or truly see, but once in a while, it should be cleansed, if not, how could it stay luminously shiny? Why are we serving these lusts? With full obedience and loyalty? We should break away from its crust, even though it's tough to control and rackety. I know it's simply obstreperous, but try to never give in, it is treacherous and perfidious, all these temptations of sin. No matter what you have done, know that God is readily forgiving. Believe me, life is short, oh little one, for verily from Him we came and to Him we are leaving.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
Hearts, Locked and Chained
Just as over the course of a year, the seasons change, inevitably, over the course of life, a woman's body will change. The photoshopped supermodel on the cover of a fashion magazine is an 'ideal' that does not exist. While the allure of youth & vitality cannot be denied, neither can the appreciation for time & experience. It's the honorable path walked by all maidens & matriarchs. A path that comes with blemishes, cellulite, scars & stretchmarks. Wrapped in every shape, size & skin color. Yet, it's these so-called 'imperfections' that render her fascinating & unique. A paragon of feminal physique, so luminously patterned & intrinsically beautiful.
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Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Kintsugi
*In my thoughts you mimic the phases of the moon— the waning gibbous tonight only reminds me that you are 68.4 percent away from disappearing — You will be back again, though, shining luminously into my darkness and your beauty will hypnotize me as it always does— (the striations in your eyes carry spells of which I am much too susceptible to) you will dictate my every emotion— just as the moon dictates the tides in the ocean.*
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
March 3, 2013
* As twilight sighs neath moon shadow patterns, my longing heart beats in perfect cadence with the universe, creating constellations on a silent nightscape shimmering luminously of my love for her*
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
On a silent nightscape
you quickly quipped cunning comments in the skinniest jeans west of the mississippi sighing softly then, glancing to the left to keep an eye on the spider scurrying on the wall. you emerged triumphantly luminously translucent like a goddess of the noon sun your eyes skipped mine in a beat seconds behind my own and with the final say from your fist the walls began to fall and outside, the small southwestern suburb watches with fascination as the spider skids away.
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
This is for the Walls in our Rec Room
"Everyone quiet now." A rose petal floats through the air so effortlessly Always reaching the ground too quickly Is it falling or does it scamper away? Is it living or not worth the attention? Beautiful mystery, the most lovely thing to mind or mention. Frightening discovery the most lending thing to tension "And ugly as sin!" Yet still heard are bird songs... "everyone quiet now" Listen to the wind blow Feel it kiss and caress your face Watch flowers bloom "Out of toxic waste!" "everyone quiet now" ... The grass ascends from the ground Each delicate blade touched by the sun "Profound! Like worms in the mud!" "everyone quiet now" *"Hear this, pay stark attention with respect it may save your life some dark day-inflect"* The sun glistens through all clouds seeming to envelop the sky Shining through any darkness That can and will Relentlessly devour Consume all in its path "Like the leaves on a tree from a mother giraffe!" "everyone quiet now. This is important." Look back to the sky Sparkling luminously Ever at day Ever at night Powers and magic Beyond any vast imagination And you at its core with every sensation to reveal this much and more, provide inspiration
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
Today's Lecture: What is Truly Important
Those wise stars twinkled so luminously, I looked over into your eyes thinking all the answers could be found in their depths. I wouldn't call it pathetic maybe just hopeful and naive with a tinge of foolishness. Intellectual depth was mistaken for insightfulness and the spark I thought I saw in your eyes was nothing but a dull, passionless blown out star. The ocean breeze, salty air and Piña coladas tend to make you drastically romanticize everything (especially that hideous necklace that looked nothing like Something I would've worn). That last night I had to beg you to stay up with me watching the Florida coast line come into view. The outline of the whole state was visible and that was when I realized I really ******* love my life. I looked over at you and you were half asleep. Different priorities, different mind set, different ideals .You were a bland key-lime pie while I was a red velvet cake. I, Rich with prosperity and thoughts and you were content with the life I dreaded seeing myself stuck in. Hey, if a a big house on a lake with a dog and a boat is your thing, go for it. I strive to not follow in my parents footsteps. The day we ended I went down to Davis island where we always used to sit. The carnival cruise ship was leaving. I watched it sail all the way out into the horizon, the warm thought of you went with it.
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
The thought of us
.. her stained hands clasps ..a dab of makeup felt stainless .. fabulous touchup we must say She: ... believed in alone Distantly from this polluted star Distance from the captivity Distances are farthest away When pain is the experience Plenty of space in her heart for distinctivness where it does the gravity pulls us apart where does the sea stop in a sky warped.. distinct creativity and cultivating luminously as does the creature He comfronts her well-being devotedly to her charisma she sang and wonderfully blessed in a toughness that vowed himself a creature a creative man in a way a bit certainly known to be that simple touch ...certainty ....dismantle the serinity into you .. dismemberment . remember you're honor CREATURE of the Night.. stare at her as if it were impossible with those crystalized steerling chimney smoked eyes whimpering at her witherment; Either way he's a creature she'd think about along .in the ending .. designed for each-other ...part or take from hand to life Start Creature Run but don't be afraid After-all After-hours: if we close the door the night could last forever ~Classy that everything we have is gone and all that we need stands strong and all that we haven't gotten stays simply strange enough to remain a creature After-life; If you close your heart your death could remain a mystery but the creature in your soul makes it up; the creature in your system messed-up .. PM: CLOSED; Clouds are closing in on me like a volture just like a big giant reluctant egale ;Creature! Type of thing that the evilness couldn't find.
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 2:53 AM UTC
.. creature
.. her stained hands clasps ..a dab of makeup felt stainless .. fabulous touchup we must say She: ... believed in alone Distantly from this polluted star Distance from the captivity Distances are farthest away When pain is the experience Plenty of space in her heart for distinctivness where it does the gravity pulls us apart where does the sea stop in a sky warped.. distinct creativity and cultivating luminously as does the creature He comfronts her well-being devotedly to her charisma she sang and wonderfully blessed in a toughness that vowed himself a creature a creative man in a way a bit certainly known to be that simple touch ...certainty ....dismantle the serinity into you .. dismemberment . remember you're honor CREATURE of the Night.. stare at her as if it were impossible with those crystalized steerling chimney smoked eyes whimpering at her witherment; Either way he's a creature she'd think about along .in the ending .. designed for each-other ...part or take from hand to life Start Creature Run but don't be afraid After-all After-hours: if we close the door the night could last forever ~Classy that everything we have is gone and all that we need stands strong and all that we haven't gotten stays simply strange enough to remain a creature After-life; If you close your heart your death could remain a mystery but the creature in your soul makes it up; the creature in your system messed-up .. PM: CLOSED; Clouds are closing in on me like a volture just like a big giant reluctant egale ;Creature! Type of thing that the evilness couldn't find.
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28
majestic sounds that fill the ear luminously engraved as the bass harmonizes with melodies in my mind as the piano croons a humble tune coating the whispers in my ear as the drums build up to perfect synchronization wishing I could hold it so near the heart of the synths enrapture me catching me in the web of love crocheted in a melodic fantasy I close my eyes as I enjoy the ride letting the strings subside I fantasize in this melodic bliss who knew heaven could feel like this? as I walk along the tones of bridges building up to a world unknown it is the sweetest thing I’ve ever known like the tenderness of honeydew the rhythms of love speak to you so sweet yet so tempting the trumpets tower over me leaving me selfless giving myself endlessly
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Oct 5, 2022
Oct 5, 2022 at 3:11 AM UTC
ode to music
I was there standing at the corner it was dark,cold and smells I was there being laughed,scolded judged and ignored cuts and suicidal are in mind but something stopped them and left them behind I saw a light luminously coming towards me I put a step behind cause I'm afraid that it would influenced me Then there was a hand I grabbed it It was warm and cozy It changed my life feels like the Spring is coming early And the hand was HOPE. a.b
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 3:30 AM UTC
Hope
you will always be here like the moon that hovers stoically independent you will always be here unequivocally present luminously magnificent you will always be here like a God that loves abundantly forever omnipresent i may no longer see you but you will always be here
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Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 3:30 AM UTC
always here
May the penumbra of your green eyes ogling gently, You have left me with this secret in my soul, May I recount to you an image of you before me? Jollity as of a magnificent art painting of innocence, There you were susurrated in reciting a canticle, Acute feelings in my heart as the respite end, As you spoke the words spiraled over your tongue, Radiates over your lips I am laced in your rapture, Your eyes are my guide to stay always by your side, This love will never be replaced I’m born to love you, I shall pirouette a tale for you of star studded loves, I suspire for you my love for you is perpetually yours, My love for you I have found your smile is my light, Wreathed like a web of intensely yearning desire, As warm as the west winds blow with sunsets heat, Blossomed in canticles as it breaks into an eruption, As we cling closer before a festive ligature of flames, Inebriated with our own artistic designs of pure love, I embark as a sail into virtuous commonage of our desires, I shall commune to you in all silence in all passion, Luminously bright and pure as a star lit night, Reticence with halcyon moments of our passions” By AG 05/10 2018 ©
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
“Halcyon Moments”
From the darkness comes forth creation. A brilliant display of multi-colored ideas splashed against the page. Wonderfully contrasting against the eternal night locked inside. From the breathless void comes forth eternity. The swirling rainbow of forever paints the tranquil sky. Luminously capturing the essence of yesterday's undisclosed promise. From the apex of the world comes forth the voice. A harmonious melody that speaks of universal truths. Harkening back to a time before the land was illuminated by the golden light.
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Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
True Nature
Before my birth there was infinite time, after my death there is inexhaustible time. I never thought of it before: I’d been living luminously between two eternities of darkness.
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 3:21 AM UTC
Birth and Death
there lies no certainty on what is waiting for me on the other side of the moon whether i will be greeted by the stars i've been trying to grasp with my bare hands or a meteor that will collide with my fragile body and turn me into a speck of dust in the galaxy either way like an astronaut wandering in the space who tries to seek the void and mysteries of the universe i will never let gravity pull my weight down as i reach towards where you shine luminously
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Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC
gravity