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Mar 2017
Follow like the mist of the morning
I'm yawning but my eyes are wide,
the dew on the leaves seem boring,
I cried but not from a place of sorrow
I follow the luminous orb to a place:
a place so far away from grace.

The cliffs are divided by gravel
I'll travel the rest of the ways tomorrow,
for the light prods a horse with a saddle
I watched the birds fly over my way.
I hear the chirps barricaded by trees
I'll see to it that I'll sail the seas.

The song echoes, I hear nothing but breathing,
the colours taste bland and there I was reaching-
for one glorious moment where it all made sense.
I commend those who travelled these cliffs
that were eclipsed by the deadliest woods.

I smell something sinister yet reminds me of me,
I smell something like the smell of flesh on water,
I smell nothing. I fear, I smell nothing.

I see one last projection of the illuminating orb,
as it transforms into a night sky of stars,
I'm afar from them, but I can feel them touch me.
The warmth I reminisce on, reappears,
I fear I can taste colours and smell roses,
I fear I can hear the birds beyond the trees,
I hear them just fine, and I hear more than that;
I hear my heartbeats, I've beaten the cliffs
eclipsed by dangerous woods.
I have no idea what I'm writing, because I sort of drifted out- but as long as I'm drifting in and out, I am happy.

:)
Written by
Gregory Dun Aer  Home
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