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Satya Poem #4

They say that Ice is my fall
That in night the Lightning strikes
And that the antitheses is my all
That that divine spark causes fights

But Hail and Wind become hands
With the predestination of Desire
I won’t give into demands
Because I’m possessed with Fire

Gathering in a wash of Gray
The blue sky darkens like Ash
And the shadows overtake day
As those strikes begin to blast

A torrent of words and Ice
with Hail, Destruction, and entropy
will resolution ever suffice?
With conflict as our destiny?

Lightning strikes, generating Blood
With source from light by Ash
With hail melting, creating Flood
Then Darkness, as the Clouds move fast

Nothing’s left, Wind disturbs Sand
Ash, all the preciousness of symbols
The Fire, it has in it’s highest demands
That I sing and fight for hymnals

So I cannot relent
As the Storm doesn’t end
And I do not repent
Because Ice doesn’t pretend

It knows all circles as rectangles
So that we keep fighting with Fire
as it untangles from the Triangle
So we can create Ice from Desire

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