The room was nearly silent, Save the scratching of his quill. As a lone white taper flickered, From atop the window sill. Slowly he filled the parchment, As each new thought would pass. Occasionally gazing outside, Beyond the frosted glass. He’d made a new discovery, On that chilly winter’s night. He’d set out on a journey, Towards a path of Light. He recalled the many numbers, Like three and five and seven. That to the Seeker chartered, A Path that led to heaven. But the parchment captured more, Thank simple sets of numbers. Squares and celestial...
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