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metaphor

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He asked her to burn the city. She did so willingly, with blind eyes she lassoed the sun. She pulled it down to their level and set the skyscrapers alight with the temperamental dynamite of left-behind dreams. The moon was lonely in the sky, the stars were no comfort when the brightest of his life had been pulled away. The moon, he cried- soulful, silken tears crashed from space and turned to oceans on the barren earth.
The boy watched from his mind, where he was the safest he could ever be, as mountains disintegrated and reemerged as stars that leapt from the heavens. He watched everyone wake, minds purified by the metaphoric flame.
It was beautiful.



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