The Countess Of Heaven
A heaven, the countess,
Not the king of jewellery and speak;
A heaven overshadows our thinking
While awake, innards change
To match the organs of despair
That spirits sprint at with guilt.
My heaven eventually is disbelieved,
My gorgeous gentry on Earth
Fade into a climate of fame.
My heaven is astounding - changing.
Many of the Paradise are silver - some gold.
Mighty stars of thinking-size astound us - what pride!
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