He knows the dance of lines at night,
and their expanding, mystic trip
the perils and the clipons' grip.
Convergent margins still unite
where once per life, lines sternly meet
to make the skylines' incomplete.
The scenes recite and years invite,
abstruse the ranges, lift and share
the precognitions' blue affair.
His mind abides on beaming light
as thrust draws close the distant knots
and his horizon's linking thoughts.
Where braves their destiny incite
as lines embellish this decor,
where scenes return to years before.
Defiantly his words indite,
what his third destiny perfects,
trajectories of skyward wrecks.
Where braves amid the mists ignite
their speeding dreams of years eighteen
and turn to woods of evergreen.
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