From a young poet.
Mouse of mine,
I’ve made for you a maze.
Impenetrable diamond box beneath the earth,
swaddled in the sweltering magma like
the immortal star under a blanket
you have always been.
So safe, warm and concealed
beneath the shifting plates
the winding roadways,
As far as the roads of Agartha will take you
from the violent apes and their
to heaven and hell.
Monkey of mine,
there are hot springs and peaceful beings-
as many ripe kiwis as a boy could eat.
Mr. Golden Sun is just a sweet song away
with a rainbow necklace that you can wear
and a glowing crystal crown
from the icy end of a meteor
for your precious royal head.
When it is time to sleep,
you and me and daddy makes three
will pillow fight with fluffy clouds,
flying like jets that will never cradle missiles.
We will crash…
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