The earth, a marble, blue and streaked with green,
Is a whispered rumor, a long-forgotten scene.
Here, where the light is born and then descends,
My shadow lengthens, and my thinking mends.
I am a ghost upon a sea of light,
A silent vessel in the endless height.
The sun's last fire paints the wispy floor,
And what I am, I am not anymore.
The world below is a mosaic of haste,
Of broken promises and time laid waste.
But here, where silence is the only sound,
And all that's lost is finally unbound.
I ponder not on what I can't retrieve,
Nor on the tangled fictions I believe.
But on the breath of life, the fading hue,
And on the luminous, unknowable you.
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