The Void and the Wormhole

he heard the golden trumpets calling
sounds coming from an empty mansard
as heat rises over his copper head
over his eponymous cosmos

the maker of secular arts
shall fall before he could rise for the first time

only because there's a leak sur le jardin
the maker shall fall deep down
bound to his cloaked heart of starkness
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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