Universe Poem By Me.
And in this Universe.
Death is a moral curse.
Stolen by the truth.
Sunken by a naked hurt.
Hollowed by the gaze of ghosts.
The sky was blue.
But windows did not hide the inside.
Was it a face, or a reflection?
Did it fear, or threaten?
Such beauty and peace.
Enwrapped the frightened.
Was it me or that?
Whichever, shall I ever know?
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