Oh, what a glorious thing
To live, to think, to love
And to ask questions such as these.
What does it mean to be human?
Oh, what a glorious thing To live, to think, to love And to ask questions such as these.
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"I know, I know!"
The cry pierces with frustration That soft music, Harmonious to conversation Dedication Stumbling all around Annihilation No remains to be found Misinformation, now the fixation Simplification It's on the tip of the tongue - Delineation. Sweet vindication. Days
Stories You Seem to accumulate Like the snow Bit by bit Flake by flake Time Detail Your presence Slowly builds Until everything is covered In a blanket Of years. Of truth. Of new. |
AuthorI simply enjoy the act of writing. How much greater would life be Keeping it on record.
March 2016
Subplots |