Poem by Aliah Nicole Tejano
a young dimension separate,
in universal quarantine
an infant of four billion, a disparate
for seven billion of soul serpentine
accessible only by a portal invisible,
a path forbidden and misremembered
only for a generation of anatidae is it permissible
a curiosity they meant treated by bird
sick in a way you may not think
a virulent in constant monitor
whispers of memories stolen in a blink
lost in pages of old is a reset motor
a world devoid, yet abundant
a kind of magic, but not quite
a magic double, a redundant
magic untouched, unused, but bright
for a world of venom shall not wield
for once upon a time, it was not so,
and an ever-spreading pitch was the yield
from cure unfound, born was a law
billions of billions robbed of life
an exchange, the orcs for those grieved
contained with the disease, still, they thrive
but right had they be deceived?
for the world outside, 'tis nothing but a legend
within, not even a memory amorphous
but those at their wit's end
an exception, once a waxing gibbous
the exception of a poem of black and white
in an ocean of color, such sharp contrast
for what even is a poem for the blind
but a word cluster of space vast
could a poem of color absent
even replant a vestige, a spark of a fresh belief,
the power to make the unreal present,
for what is so different between reality and fantasy, but the relief
this is the story of a world forgotten
i tell you this and hope it is enough
to replay a glimpse of the past, a mirror downtrodden
by a subconscious rebuff
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