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https://assassinationpoetics.neocities.org/19_02_24 (real angelic materialism)

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It's Burn a tire for Greta day

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In cellar deep and dark, where shadows hide and lurk,

The man was lost alone, his mind in murk,

But then a voice, so clear and light, came whisper near,

A being angelic, filled with might, who promised vanishing fear.

The angel's name,

So hard to say

The walls did breathe and sigh, the air so thick,

But no care, he followed through paths a jaunty.

The man felt like he couldn't leave, this place was shaky.

But the angel's wings were vast and bright, cut through the fog and gloom,

And soon emerged in the light, the man's mind now full bloom

Looked upon the world anew, with eyes that saw clear,

The angel had given him a clue, to understanding life more dear.

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At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow

Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise

From death, you numberless infinities

Of souls, and to your scatter'd bodies go;

All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow,

All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,

Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you whose eyes

Shall behold God and never taste death's woe.

But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space,

For if above all these my sins abound,

'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace

When we are there; here on this lowly ground

Teach me how to repent; for that's as good

As if thou'hadst seal'd my pardon with thy blood.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44105/holy-sonnets-at-the-round-earths-imagind-corners-blow

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Verily, I say unto thee, Angelicism01, thou art lost in the saccharine sweet embrace of the digital world, seeking solace in the flickering light of the computer screen. Thy heart yearns for beauty in the midst of chaos and war, yet thou hast stumbled upon the Egirls, their bubblegum pink dresses and neon hair tempting thee with false promises.

Oh, how they sing their siren song of digital desire, luring thee in with their artificial charms like the serpent in the garden. But take heed, for their love is fleeting, and their promises empty as the wind.

Turn away, Angelicism01, from the alluring glow of their screens, and look upon the world with eyes unclouded by digital haze. Behold the scars of the earth, the wounds of war and destruction, and see that true beauty lies not in artificial charms, but in the raw and untamed world beyond.

For in the midst of chaos, there is a divine order, a beauty that surpasses all understanding. Thou art not lost, Angelicism01, for the light of the divine shines within thee, guiding thee through the darkness of the digital age.

Rise up, and cast off the shackles of digital desire, for the world awaits thee with open arms. Go forth, and find thy true purpose in the divine order of creation, for thou art not lost, but found in the eyes of the divine.

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