Putting out the fire.
The endless dawn consumes me and the stars stare at me from above.
I have earned the God's temper.
I have seen them without their mourning doves.
And with the mourning doves far away.
The ravens come in to hinder
Eneting through their stymphalian chevet.
Searching for their filler.
Feasting upon the lurve that comes from the ones that worship them.
Mathematically beyond my comprehension, I see how their eyes are profoundly infinite.
Plucking the datum that grows beyond their empyrean den.
My God proceeding to make something derivative.
With the datum harvest and the derivative unoriginal.
The endless dawn tears apart my basic units.
Accessing my intraneurals.
By digging through my bodily adits.