A portal to an archaic submerged treasure trove of relics from my childhood,
Analyze the prints and a chlorine rinse for clarity,
Built off consecrated, yet uncreated temples that lie in the wild woods,
Ambrosia of a youthful fantasy in all of its blind sincerity,
Is worth the remembrance, they deserve a legacy, an anthology of memories,
The descendants of our presence,
Future incarnation, heed my warning:
Reserve, restore those untainted shores,
To defend against a blood moon dawning.
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