To The Lady of Flies on the Event Horizon:

“Let starless dark night skies strafe
your glowing chambered eyes.
As stirring maelstrom cosmos
those sable pearls will shine.

Grant ebon glaring eyes, grace
confined so dark and wise,
leer captured incandescence;
this universe now dies.”

Her ornamental gaze secretes,
fills blackened oceans as it weeps,
and frozen so, a heart retreats
too cold, too black to nourish flies.

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