The Pied Piper of Paris
had never heard of a ferry,
For when he led the mice
away from the rice
He joined them under the sea
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Empyrean Dream
On top of the world, one sees forever. Blinded by his own insignificance in the vistas of the infinite, he falls. What hence are absolutes in the face of eternity? For the only thing that never changes is the continuance of silent night, inexorable as the fall of frigid snowflakes upon the winter marches.
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