gri_2003_m_46_b05_f12_041

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68699346 - Preacher357
WINNER - 69838528 - Crazycatz935
70017178 - slartybartfast100
70244923 - jmfahne
70655092 - not-logged-in-ddc1fbfeb9336f40dd80
70955805 - Zooniverse2017

68699346 - Preacher357

II
Glass balls make a planetary
System round the dark green sun.
Indifferent to entrophy.

Comets grage Hose silver tails
On the windows of the earth.

Tree of many in the one.

Stare, by and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death or birth
It is suitable for a feast

So the room in the globe
Bobbing on the branch at the least
World-shaking extra-galloctee step.

The footprints
In tomorrow's snow
Is walked there by
The Lion of today

III
You know where I stand, but sacrifice
gives order to the Christmas chaos.

The languid morning is a lolling head.
The galzing bars a cross:
That's who we celebrate, whose blood we dodge
the rest of the christened year.

WINNER - 69838528 - Crazycatz935

II

glass balls make a planetary
system round the dark green sun,
Indifferent to entropy.

Comets graze those silver tails
on the windows of the earth.

Trees of many in the one.

Stars, by brings and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death or birth
It is suitable for a feast.

So the room carves in the globe
Bobbing on the branch at the least
World-shaking extra-galactic step.

The footprints
In tomorrow's snow
Is walked there by
The Lion of Today

III

You know where I stand, but sacrifice
gives order to the Christmas chaos.

The languid morning is a lolling head.
the glazing bars a cross:
That's who we celebrate, whose blood we dodge
the rest of the christened year.

70017178 - slartybartfast100

II
glass balls make a planetary
system round the dark green sun,
Indifferent to entropy.

Comets grace those silver tails
On the windows of the earth.

Tree of many in the one.

Stars, by rings and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death or birth
It is suitable for a feast.

So the room in the globe
Bobbing on the branch at the least
World-shaking extra-galloctic step.

The footprints
On tomorrow's snow
Is walked there by
The lion of today.

III
You know where I stand, but sacrifice
gives orders to the christmas chaos.

The languid [morning] is a lolliing head,
the glazing [bans] a cross:
That's who we celebrate, whose blood we dodge
the rest of the christened year.

70244923 - jmfahne

II
Glass balls make a planetary system round the dark green sun. Indifferent to entropy.

Comets grace those silver tails on the windows of the earth.

Tree of many in the one.

Stars, by beings and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death on birth it is suitable for a feast.

So the room corners in the globe Bobbing on the branch at the least

World-shaking extra-gallactic step.

The footprints In tomorrow's snow is walked there by the lion of today

III

You know where I stand, but sacrifice gives order to the Christmas chaos.

The languid morning is a lolling head. The glazing bars a cross: That's who we celebrate, whose blood we dodge the rest of the christened year.

70655092 - not-logged-in-ddc1fbfeb9336f40dd80

II
9 lass balls make a planetary system round the dark green sun, indifferent to entropy.

Comets graze those silver tail on the windows of the earth.

Tree of many in the one.

Stars, by wings and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death or birth
it is suitable for a fear.

So the noon curves in the globe
bobbing on the \branch/ or the blast

World-shaking extra-galactic step.

The footprint
in tomorrow's snow
is walked thus by
the lion of Today

III
You know where I stand, but sacrifice
gives order to the christmas chaos.

The languid morning is a bobbing head,
the [uncleear] bars a cross:
That's who we celebrate, whoe blood we dodge
the rest of the christened year

70955805 - Zooniverse2017

II

Glass balls make a planetary
System around the dark green sun,
Indifferent to entropy.

Comets graze those silver tail
On the windows of the Earth.

Tree of many in the one.

Stars, by brings and fans, are trailed.

Whether we know it's death or birth
It is suitable for a feast.

So the room curves in the globe
Bobbing on the branch at the least
World-shaking extra-galactic step.

The footprints
In tomorrow's snow
Is walked then by
The lion of today

III

You know where I stand, but sacrifice
gives order to the Christmas chaos.

The languid worning is a lolling head.
The glazing bars a cross:
That's who we celebrate, whose blood we dodge
the rest of the christened year.

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