Poem 158








Upon the tallest summit
of a cliff..
Behind the stained glass
of a church..
For whom the bell tolls?
For him.. whose name
The Chorus
reverently calls.

The one who falls,
so recklessly,
from a dizzying height.
The one whose fire shines
so brilliant and bright..
against the dark
and endless void
of starry skies
at night.

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