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Jan 2014
Time is just a concept, a moment with a name.
Something in-which can never be evaded.

A freedom, lost in the concept,
bound to a ticking clock.

We want to forget.
Just for now.

Begone.
in
our
swirling
vortex.

Take me back to the day,
that moment with a name.
A time: where I was meant to be.
My thoughts clouded with sage.
A haze pushing me side-ways.
My black memory's.

Time is just a concept,

in-which we can never repair.

No going back-ways,
all will have to remain.

No-one to blame,
the fates will withhold.
And nothing will ever be foretold...
© Victoria
Nickols
Written by
Nickols
1.5k
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