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 May 6 Ankush
MetaVerse
 May 6 Ankush
MetaVerse

                                                   i
                                               t      n
                                           o             g
                                        o                     
go and catch a shhhh                           star. . . . . .


Lit tunnels and less lit tunnels
Where is the light at the end?

I want the warmth of the train's headlights
And I want the conductor to feel bad
When his breaks don't work in time

Inescapable Death Upon Impact
You can try and lift both feet off the tracks
Hurl your torch into the groaning abyss
Pry the railway from the ground

Alas

What goes up
Must come down
Every flame that flares in
Must fade out
Tonight I'm remembering and mourning the loss of the great visionary Mr. David Lynch. I sometimes think I've come to accept death as a fact of life and therefore defeated grief, but Mr. Lynch is on that list of people who have it in them to remind me otherwise. It's felt a little like a part of my soul is missing, since his passing. One day (probably fairly soon) that feeling will also meet its end, maybe.
Trying to understand,
     the great plan,
Ultimate quest, of
      Woman, and Man.
Let me queue,
    you, into a great,
       decorating style.
A bedroom, where,
  your eyes, close
     and reopen, to
         a smile.
To my grandmother it was a picture of Jesus, rescuing two children from a storm. My mother said it was pictures, of me and my sister. For me, it is pictures of places, my wife, and I have been fortunate enough to visit together. I hope you have, or soon, find yours.
I pray,
   to find a way.
To express,
    with success.
What I need,
     to say.
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