In Caelis

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Somewhere it appears 
Beyond the thought of man 
Can only imaginarily described 
“As” and “like” the qualifying words 
Of this heaven that be.

A golden sanded soil of mirrored look 
With silver coated glasses 
That reflect the light from self 
Direct from the builder’s body           
A hope for every bettering.

Your condusive aroma calls 
For more concentration unto you 
A living place with every lively smile 
Habouring fine little little beings 
That chant unto Him forever.

A where virtues overflow 
And vices are the far past-then 
Where accumulation is only on the good 
And prayers are enjoyment 
As the holy little little things fall to praise.

Marching straight of diamond 
Incensing the all in all or what have you 
Where he imaginatively said to sit 
And perceives the scent of flowering 
Creatures that beseech him forever.

The earth cries to stay there 
All humans hope to come and live 
With their maker at different lasts 
Wonder how the place will turn to be 
With the failures of this earthly life.

Won’t man steal the golden sand to sell 
Or have erotic affairs with the angels 
Even trying to impeach or overthrow God 
Or even increase the vices or prices of things 
With this his eathly bow-eyes.

Can’t I suggest for another place 
For the people of better ways 
To avoid introducing confusion to the innocents 
Because the trait I think is there 
Lest embarrassment be brought to heaven.

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