Morgue of my heavens

I know never
There was one heaven that did not die
Or dream of death
In my random nausea i could see
Some halo of all those dead heavens
Standing as old grand houses
In a starry street, silent with star shadows of dark trees.
All their shutters are closed.
All their souls are no nore of sound.
In silence they announce the begone beliefs
I am in the shadow of lost memories.
I know a few of those old bunglows
Some i thought might be my heavens once.
This small silent cottage
This heaven died when i knew somebody has lied to me with a smiling face, unwavering.
That one, by the soundless dark river,
That heaven died when i broke somebodies arm.
There, the one by the corner,
That was when i first cheated.
Yet not all were mine. Some
Seeped in from neighbouring worlds.
The starlight covering the shadows cast
Mingling and mating at times with the Shadows in silence, in near blindness.
In random nausea of unworldly hope
I search for myself and my belief
In the morgue of dead heavens

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