Do not question my faith-
the one that embedded a detonator
into your silver, weeping moon,
remembers
all those nightmares
that were translated into pure madness.
Promises fade between bleeding stars,
the sky's burning, shiny scars
that testify about the times when we had gods.
Some notes never played
haunt phlegmatic tendencies
turning the hourglasses,
ancient remains
within this digital mechanism.
Now, when the history merged
with the world's eclipse,
do not question my faith.
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