Thèatre


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When the I in me

encounter the you I seek,

it is no longer I that live,

but you that lives, in me

I, dead

You, alive

I have become a

Theatre, where heavens

Tales is recited

When the soul dies

To the mundane, he

domiciled between the

cherubs, feeding the

Heritage of immortals

He can not yearn for

The temporal bread again,

Because he has

escaped from the

economy of

Dust and decay.

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