Let me pen you with forever rhyme and warm your heart PAST end of time!
Let me press your flesh in boundless tome of endless leaves that choose a doom
Earth's frail seasons bless (like butterfly embracing arc, enjoined to die) .
Fate has twists and turns that reason can't discern. What's right perspective? Plant
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I hear a Miltonic strain, but your lines stretch to 8.5 beats. Like Donne you are concerned with first and last things, and with the soul's well-being. So much contemplation is compacted into '...stars' death gave mind birth in time.'