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Divinities
Having crowded once onto the threshold of mortality And not been chosen There is no freedom such as theirs That have no beginning The air itself is their memory A domain they cannot inhabit But from which they are never absent What are you they say that simply exist And the heavens and the earth bow to them Looking up from their choices Perishing All day and all night Everything that is mistaken worships them Even the dead sing them an unending hymn