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Upon a time the world was flat – Sharp-cornered face with dangerous edge, Sun circling ‘round, both top and bottom. Earth at the center of everything right.
Flat Faced One did rest and ride Ignorance floating on blissful breeze ‘Til Renaissance did Medieval crack, A widening gap from pause long held.
“It is a wound!” “No, tis new design!” Fools do shout with tumbling terms. Language fails and thoughts unthink When ideas threaten space and time.
“Where am I?” I lightly tread Where Flat Faced One no l
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Please all advices and critics welcome.
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