Genur.art

Silver and cold pink, Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss. A current under sea Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth Entering the whirlpool. Entire or new O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you. ne0nfant4sy, detailmaximizer, ne0nfant4sy