FaithFully-ever After

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Every once upon a time,

I like to meet my eternal mother:

Oh, Miss Dotted Night,

And all her Quintillion children.

She spoils and adores.


Just as equally but even more so,

And for every child,

One of her Quintillion eyes.

She loves and spoils.


Then those who lay waste under her,

The dreamers: the believers,

Yet forsaken are those

She believes in who,

Because what One believes, is true. 

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