To shepherd’s delight, sky fluster’s pie
Meanwhile, angels in tatty dusters shuffle house to house
Muttering under blessed breaths the breadthless names
Infinity gave itself with a quill of flames.
On the bottom shelf, frayed and yellowing,
Its binding frail, a mislabelled book of names;
Those who will enter paradise through its famous gates.
Thumbed daily in ancient day
This singular codex so strangely made
Forgotten now, as all are made.
Alchemisland 
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