Our quanta revolve around their respective protons,
So too planetary groups whirl around their own suns.
Cosmologists have now confirmed that our Milky Way
Is spiraling and waltzing like a dance troupe in May,
Locked in a kind of cosmic dance around a Black Hole
Located at center like a magnetic Maypole,
An unseen force keeping our galaxy together...
There is likewise an Ark to which we are on tether,
Indulge my fancy, I shall call that Central Craft--Lord.
Our souls seek to fly aboard, but oft we break the Cord;
No end to our rebirth cycle, it seems unceasing,
So strive on Skep, lest your soul be found still unpleasing.
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