Through dimensions of time,
the deceptions of rhyme
hold a meaningless guide
through this deafening night,
and I pray that I'll wake
in some far-away place,
lost somewhere in-between
the bright atoms of space,
where dark stardust collides
into souls of the dead,
and our life-lines divide
into eons ahead,
and this humanly vice
is not judged as a crime,
weaving paths of half-lies
in and out of time.














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