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Underneath bombs and stars
she stands rapt,
mesmerized by the space
that encompasses the distance
between reality and possibility.

There is peace and there is chaos.

The red light of her mind’s eye
throbs, insinuating
the next crisis of anxiety.

Her left hand holds a scythe
to level the fields of the past,
while she thrusts her right fist
into the hornets’ nest
of Pandora’s box.

The future looks on,
exasperated, impatient
for her to move forward
into what cold be.

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