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Oct 2018
Flowing
through space
and
time.
Wandering
dimensionally
through
ethereal
realms
and back.
Sliver of
reality we
live,
oblivious
of all that
exists.
Writhing in
the bog,
clawing to
survive.
Looking up
looking out,
like babes
in the
crib.
Wandering,
wondering.
Mysteries
wrapped in
mysteries,
never to
be known.
Undaunted,
pressing on.
Pressing on
to a future
unknowable.
To places
beyond
belief.
John Prophet
Written by
John Prophet
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