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Over the crest

Glints poison and shift

Catch wonder in the wind

To stream along the ridge

Spilling into bottle placed

Ensnared iridescence in pools

Shines the archways in its new light

Preparing the circle

Grains and resin sundered

In light of transmutation

Seven marks of the sign for

The second of seven I spy for

But fervor is boiling me slowly

I swear

The well has no floor

Shift!