The burning tree demanding forth:
Skin the kings
As the spiral of roaches
Awaken the teeth of steel
Thy Holy Child
My kin together
Festive consummation
Of space and time
Joyous is thy event
One spark commences
The ascension and transfiguration
Of one pure soul that
Seeks in the mind
To open the eye
And see all of the sides of the moon
Darkness enlightened
Perfect is the moment
Worries set at sail
Nothing to matter when dissolved
And like Alice though the looking glass
A new place anew to us forth
As blessed with knowledge
Is bestowed upon the wake
Of a novel sense
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