In realms where every point meets its match,
A pot of gold rests, in worlds unlatched.
Oh, let babes cry, let laughter dance,
As we cradle galaxies in our hands, perchance.
Behold, my smiling babe of lore,
At life’s train station, death’s door.
Voices of children, wise beyond years,
Echo truths amidst our fears.
Historical amnesia, our ailment dire,
Yet in each tear, a whispered choir.
So cry, dear babe, and strive anew,
In this tapestry, find the hue.
Greed, a poison in our veins,
Mutes the voices, dims the flames.
Lost astronauts in steel’s cruel embrace,
Seeking solace in another space.
Oh, noble Laureates, heed this plea,
In every word, a symphony.
For in every point, the universe sings,
And in every cry, hope springs.
rev: 03.02.2024 ::

March 3rd, 2024 at 3:45 am
Nice post 🌹
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