Slowly we reach, a heavenly peak.
Look down at the beach, a glorious feat.
Like Holofernes, my Judith has run.
Run off with my head, my troubles are gone.
Now in repose, the colours have froze.
I’m lost in the midst, of brutalist trees.
Now all my fears and mentalist strains,
Have faded away, it’s beautifully grey.
In repose, aging so slow.
Time is the foe. My tranquil has gone.
Take me along!
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