The divine effigy of a curtain,
facing the freezing grounds
on its right way
to secure a mystic temptation
in the prodigal presence of a silent apprentice,
playing God.
The rolling-down shutter
unleashes the hazard of a wicked game
whose betrayed impatience
reduces the blinding sunset to pain;
Let’s use its deafening light
to shield the pitch black horizon
and to fill in, 
as we once did,
the idle blanks of a historic tempest.

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