The testament of His glory, gilded by the stars.
A dome above, carved by hands divine,
from where His mercy pours
Rejuvenating Earth and all in Her.
As He rules from the throne above.
He graced her, by many a hue in His palette;
From azure to bronze.
She reflects, like a mirror,
The joy and sorrow of the Realm below.
Two flames He ignited;
Her eyes, beacons in the vast darkness unknown,
Imparting immortal insight:
Death is inevitable, and so is life.
The maiden whom He gave the Arch;
Which, after every storm, she wears
His Covenant with us, as a crown.
Sign of His Love, steadfast.
Immaculate, just as His Son.
For she is His creation,
Ever-changing yet dormant.
Turbulent yet tranquil.
How can I replicate His handiwork?
For He made me too, by breathing life into clay.
In His image.
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