Would it be too much to bear,
An eye and throat so sincere
That air would grow burdened by Sound.
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I’ve seen angel-dust sooner rust
‘neath the watchful gaze of starlight,—
A dark blot on a molten giant begins this tale,
A story of struggle, conflict, and uprise I shall unveil,
These incandescent giants have bodies and workings which are beautifully unique,
Comprehending them in full is a truth we ought all to seek.
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