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ThoughtNothing else can break desire like you world.
Turning and turning and turning internally.
Eternally bound in a mound that spins around.
The world is too much to take
When it's just given to you.
A New FutureGenerations of moving up the tiers.
Bringing food, and hope for a better land.
An advanced and sufficient place.
While during the journey up the prophesied 8 levels,
the population decreases.
Only to find at the top of the 8 peaks
A horizon line that stretches off to find
8 new steps that climb even higher,
and a population snapshot eerily similar
to the distant past.
Swamp MonstersWith a gleam of the mighty liquid lake.
We, being all over all at once,
Glide through the murky molecules
Of the top layer of the
Feeling the beginning heat
From the suns shiny feet.
We splash time to a future
Place where we'll meet,
In a sweet sort of greeting
That pulls and strips and drags
Down the ceiling,
And turns the air into water.
Our worries become "Land Stuff"
And our dreams become the beam
Of the shining sun's watery reality.
The reality of the shimmery swamp.
A-glooming with the real ting of
Times silent tocking,
Mixing with our
Reborn beating hearts.
And as rising monsters, we depart
To our dewy home that glows underwater.
For the longing's over and gone,
Drowned with the fears
That our mortal bodies veered.
At last we are the the physical dread
Of hominal worry,
And we waste away in no hurry,
Cause our days are now filled
And pump pump
Of pushing water and grub around
In the puny purring pond.
Beast demons far and beyond.
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