Last night at the starry sky, as I was casually glimpsing
I thought I saw a shadow up there, which appeared to be limpsing
I asked the shadow – Is that you dear God?
But its reaction to my question was somewhat odd
As it turned around and pleaded me to leave well alone
And it said this in a distinct tone that resembled a moan
Get lost in your temples please and practise alchemy
Instead of preaching that I’ll cure your woes, for that’s called blaschemy.

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