The Observatory

September 2, 2011
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The somnolent gateway to the moving night,
Lay lost and tapered,
Forgotten and casted off?
As dreams are no longer encouraged.
The opaque interior
Encases the gazing, nimble movers
Symbols of progress and understanding,
Now only a pointed hourglass.
Ceiling endlessly stretched,
Encompassing dancing lights thick and thin.
Forced to wait dismally,
Through lonesome twilight.
The observatory, weakened by worry
Beneath synthetic black winds,
And waiting to search the heavens once more

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