And if the storm can ever see
The sincerity of blue skies
I ask for the chance to be
Free of imaginary lies.

No digging of graves
When we are not dead,
No maybe’s instead
Of ultimate faves.

The immensity of the fatality
Will shrivel and die
As it must.

We meet at Ecuator
At zero degrees
Savory or sweet
As we like.
There’s a time for the deeds
That will prove an ideal
Or how much it’s real.
No need for
Two bitter losers
This time
I know.

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