Stone

An individual is the blueprint for majestic art.
In unison with other souls, that person is greater than god. 
A pure ****** of colors sees the act of creation recreated in a renaissance. 

When white horses race for their life through red moss, you get pulled into euphoria and see it all.
They scratch your back, and you feel it now: an angel has been bestowed on earth, it is they.
Behold that wonderful stone, which has been thrown into the halls of Pantheon.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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