It all, and all suns weirdly lie
In state for your colloquy.
Filiate your songs: the fun
Begins and ends thus-
But never ends-
Elide existence gliding.
Fees destitute of orbs suspiring.
Lithe escutcheon severs
Orphic plenums.
Old dawn, sad friend,
You draw yourself over and over,
And meddle not in the world.
Stupid thing.
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