She lay on her shrivelled bed
Her thoughts hung inside,
Oh! the warmth of darkness
Isn't that a joy of life!
Yet uncovered, yet unrelished, yet mysterious
As the cape he dons.
Like an aimless shooting star
She flew, trying to
Look for meanings
In old and new.
Hands up high were
Guiding the lights of wit
In a creation where, her
Womb held lives yet
To come, grace and conquer.
And be hailed as the Kings and Queens
Of this dark, dark moonlight!
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