My 250th poem.
Fire calmed the curse,
and now nothing seems adverse.
short and sweet,
its true nature,was the beat.
A few strokes painted it neat,
the clarity insulted the bleak.
And as the hands went through,
the surface was spread with hue.
The impression of the curse was felt,
yet in its beauty his hands met.
The clap,produced a sound,
it awoke life all around.
Creation was [...]
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