When the form's forlorn,
And the norm's outworn,
Imagination ignites,
Dispelling all plights.
No matter its mass,
No chatter can pass.
From void it does veer,
With joy it holds dear.
A truth unforeseen,
A youth ever green.
The idea's ascent,
By deity's rent.
A thought is set free,
As naught else can be.
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