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The earth was dreaming about a moon not yetborn, when I entered its dream as a ghostwith the moon in my eyes in silhouetteheld by the creator who joins me to toastthe birth of a new moon that dreams of a sun collapsing. The earth, moon and sun dreamin unison giving me form, I whistle forever sounds of fire dying, embers teem,welding an impulse within the progeny.Paintings and compositions allude inmultitude to resurrection. Adroitlythe creator completes his masterpiece, hereina man on a cross. I will bring my progeny to fruition and amend an impulse eternally.
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This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.