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  • Writer: Hobbes
    Hobbes
  • Jan 4, 2020
  • 1 min read

Stars on the screen, galaxies inferred.

Stuck in time, toned down grandeur.


Smearing a stolen canvas

With dreary blandness.


It's a censored majesty,

A modern day tragedy.

A glimpse of wonder,

Torn asunder.

 
 
 

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