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Valeria Wilding Poem
Once the burnished God awoke
He saw naught but confusion veiling his eyes,
A mistiness thick and real
permeated the iris like obsidian or steel,
Till saw they no more.
Frantic! They run, fly, rub at their eye,
But blindness still.
How faint now the Universe seems to be without sight,
And the God lay back to sleep,
Slightly more sagacious now.
Copyright © Valeria Wilding | Year Posted 2025
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