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Dark purple canvas-
almost black-
but not quite.
Stretching endlessly,
never stopping,
Dark trees
millions of flecks-
bursts of light-
clusters and clumps-
of brilliance.
What could they be?
Lightning bugs flown too far?
Tears suspended-
like rain on a window?
Dreams forgotten-
just out of reach?
Or dreams to long for-
possibly within grasp?
Or perhaps-
the canvas
is really full of holes.
Eyelets that show
mere glimpses
of Heaven-
beaming through
that dark purple canvas-
almost black-
but not quite.

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