So its seems we've made contact
With an outer planetary superior intellect
Words conveyed and then displayed
For all to see without dismay
But some would say that its man made
But still we read and then we pray
From faith to faith from outer space
Heavens and stars belief we chase
what a thought we ought and must take sight
A study mudded be endless gripe.
A book so real we touch we feel
For endless time has no appeal
Soon it comes we know in fact
the end foretold from first contact.
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