Time is faceless in a sort of cruelty,
inhuman yet not to blame...
I laugh in futility at my own wanderings.
Such meaningless words behind
half-conjured attempts for meaning themselves
If only the world would breathe...
I wait in longing for thunder and earth to contend
once again,
though these lips have never tasted harmony...
there is a subtle rhythym that says one while living...shall not.
Explicit cries echo in the stubborn darkness......
that I myself wrought.
Heh,
Will I not wake up?
Wherever I go
There I am.
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