Turn back and gaze once more
Into the incarnate world
I once ventured alone.
With wings of a seraph, I flew
Before falling, feathers unlatched, like Icarus.
Sometimes I count the stars and wonder
If one of them will come, flying towards me
And crush me to my death.
Behind the mockery and the satirical repartee
There is the final grotesque joke of death
And it is in a constant arabesque, an undulating line between consciousness.
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