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Broken Spectre at Sunset

Bear my image, huge and radiant,

marching ‘midst the cloud and stone

of the ramparts of the world;

sweeping your iridescent cowl

past the beige and slate hued cairns

of lesser conquerors

Cast my portrait on that distant peak,

and please, if you will,

embellish a little;

surely the lofty, haughty heights,

weary of such drab, hunching specks,

long for something bolder

Trace my shadow on that craggy face,

smoky wisps from a smoldering pipe,

framing impassivity;

looming, fading, pleading,

pretending for a moment

I am as real as rock.

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