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 Grandeur Of Melancholy

The Fountain Flooded -Godrest-

So when I discover the 
gods, as in the water
that runs, and the fountain
from a heavy rain.

We see what rests by the bedpost.
Aside from the journey man on
the nexus, finding a verse.

I start over again,
by pouring out
the vase.

The fountain flooded
my eyes, with richness
but all I could find was
gravestones and not
the gods as they rise.

In this exact ness.
They walk as if 
they never left,
nor can. Here they are
Athens can never leave.
Neither can Rome.

I carry the fumes 
from the bed of stone.

I shall disgress
what seems sound
because I must amount
there is abundance in
what seems less,
and I should join
in with the spirit
and not the flesh.

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