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Under the many gazes gazing caressingly
glowing with desires lovingly and longingly;
illuminating the browns, greens, and blues
of Terre's fertile nature and sky pure 'n true;
as if ornamenting fireflies fluttering alive
with darkly prismic depths of infinite divine;
smiles the Lune with its endless radiance
yet forlornly marred remains its brilliance;
for though cradled in heart of Nyx it shines
engulfed by starry orbs reflecting on brines;
The Moon Is Hungry for a love to kiss it gold
a love ardent 'n old, a love of poets' behold;
for although bestowed by many's adoration
of friends' and lovers', and Sol's carnation;
the love it craves is always hairbreadth away
far and farther, never close 'n never to stay;
ever feeling forsaken alike broken porcelain
famished for lover's intimacy it so remains.
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