where scarlet roads seeped into sentience
below the escarpment of ire
a tranquilness pierced all dimensions
unfolding in plumes of expire
as dire as the atoms dividing
despair courting burdensome skies
a chaos of static illusion
yet lingers in mem’ries denied
I Prefer Not To.
Max, or Not 
Wonderful poem. Just Twitted!
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Thank you so much for being so kind and supportive.
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