Watching the sun come up
So then I'm dancing in the rain
Feeling pleasure and such
So then I'm happy with pain.

And all these other simple things
Which life so wants to show me
And all these other simple things
Which life so wants to grow me.

And things which happen
It all has some purpose

In such silence I feel so full,
yet boredom creeps up under me
like desire for a whole new creation
and ripping tides my body wants to move my mind wants to think,
and when they can't decide which route to take,
I fear stagnation may spoil my cycles and death comes upon me.
Death Of the most treacherous kind where I'm trapped in my body,
trapped in my mind.
And why can't these archetypes know their own play,
yes why do they do that wich causes dismay.
And why am  i so powerless and where is my will. How fast is my time spinning and how long can I feel

Etching the memories into some memorable and pleasant recollection of what my mind sees fit and how things happened but I wonder if it wasn't so.
It's been three years, and some days and I feel a repetition.
I wonder i wonder I wonder.