If Judith is woman,
Then death is hers to be,
And if not then she should not,
in a million years have but an identity,
Brittle minds clamp the flight,
With ordinary wings,
Revere the safe but dismiss blinding leaps,
Keep key to the lock,
And also fear,
So that it is but never together,
Furthering into storm,
On a wrecked boat,
There is calm at the bottom,
But do not reach,
With disheveled mind or displaced heart,
Insanity is the only most worthwhile art,
Abhor if Conventional is the name of your brainchild,
Like children however raise it with patience,
So that it may dare,
And dig up old insane bones,
And dance as it may,
But never mix into Earth.

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