As to lay forever relax,
lost in the void of thoughtless thinking,
where no other can dare be near,
in distance of a rushing over flooded river growls;
in awakens from the past rains spring season,
nearing as a mauve tint hue golden dawn spread like a veil,
thick and begging to be wander on childish feet,
while in age,
we all wither,
still unknowing and knowing passing breath exhale,
nearby that lone quiet oak tree that rested by a drop,
overlooking what the imagination covers in a damnation no one understands,
for how plays on a thin line,
so thin we forget it’s there and just live on in life,
pushing onward like a river drowning out the knowing,
and leaving the unknown to be found,
short in time,
but there,
roaring off those who are sightless of realism verve.

 

 

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