Cascading contours of colour,
Pervade kaleidoscope skies,
With shifting patterns of hues,
That trickle like timeless tears,
Recounting prophetic tales,
Speaking of days gone by,
And the morning of the moment.
An electricity of blue diffuses,
Concealing the stars, the night
With the revelation of its reveries,
Bearing the scent of silence,
Where only a softness of light,
Flowers that spring like fountains,
And a whispering wind can wander.
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