stones, under and behind my dreams. Clasping an already closed door, not going back. Iv been falling into a pattern, such a comfort to flow with. My heart consists of this learning process, retain and release these names. These cities. These stories. These people, with their inventions to revolutionize time. Time is trickling down the well, waiting for the songs from the heart to spill. Days are busied, and nights are long. But the time of the world is so slow, all the time i need. All of these words dedicated directly to my papers, and sifting my creative process to a means of compact understanding. This is the beginning, you have a head start.
Habit is my ticking clock.
Footprint patterns upon my stalk.
Yellow songs these heralds sing.
Naked caverns of diamonds ring.
Sleep will carry mental molds.
Dreaming memory, of old.
Walking down to silent fights.
Tears for fears of fleeting nights.
Time and Time, Tick and Tock.
Moon will spin above, with love.
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