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The Sublimity of StreetlightsThe ceaseless buzzing whispers the sublime,the pallid light runs smoothly through my eyesand down my spine, thus freezing me in timeas I sit, mouth agape, tracing the flies.I squint to change the focus of the ringthat clears a path in the impassive night.The numbness means I cannot feel a thing,No cold nor ache while staring at the light.My mind is all alight with tangled thoughtsthat play themselves out 'fore my very eyes,and cast their dancing shadows, splendid spotsonto that ring of light I idolize.But like all moments, time once more ignites,Though there are more to come with each new night.
Heeding the CallCarve it into the stone of ceaseless timeSo that all may observe the fall of manAs we thrust ourselves into the sublimeFlames that wil engulf us with outstretched handSo willingly we shuffle to a fateThat wishes only ill upon us all,And yet this truth does not forestall our gait,And quickly more we heed the clar'ion call.And so, like lambs the slaughter line we fill,Our destinies already neatly sealed,And when our number's called, our blood is spilled,We pray the after-life is something real.And as the lively blood drains from our souls,We realize then that we are all but fools.