A Spectramatic Perception
All is dark, no choice exists
Start a spark, creating bliss
Run its light, from that to this
Perimeter, created bliss
Growing now, to shine on out
Showing how, it comes about
Paths of past, in bliss to shout
Light will show, to come about
Light is fastest always strewn
In the smallest darkest room
Across the universe’s gloom
Light is leaving every room
poem by Paul Moosberg
Added by Poetry Lover
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