Rhythmic and Metric

World Ours Daedalian

World ours Daedalian
makes me bewildered.
‘Who’s the controller?’
stays now unanswered.
I but conjecture.

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What is forgotten
can’t be messengered;
And the patroller
can’t be endangered.
Time to surrender.

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Nature begotten
is now sepulchered;
But the creator
bides quite unbothered,
eyes the disorder.

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Life’s an occasion
where you’re enamoured
of your demeanour.
Death’s not remembered;
That I discover.

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Where is our creator,
our supreme expressor?

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