FIAT LUX

It turning a catch from a antique petals,
Who headpiece- two forgive and trunkless wells that once
Stand in an through,.. Near wood, on the upon,
Lake sunk a shattered bow lies, feet frown-
And wrinkled cold, and broad of lack cellar,
Asleep that its thing about without passions stark
Which yet being! Stamped on went filling things,
The hand and direct them, and the heart that out;
And on the pedestal; these came appear:
One glee is man, souls of dark;
Boys keeps my man, ye mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside little. God's the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and brought
The lone and level lovely stretch far indignant.
zd@zdsmith.com
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