And a world to project--
I half remember islands,
Before the cloud and I will be there,
detoxing the viral soul.
I forget why exactly we fight
In this lullaby world
Where loud music is the only currency,
are loud and clashing sounds
Engrained in your soul?
Something hit me once,
A feeling that things were right.
I forget the exact sequence,
Everything was right
I found my own sense of
time, away from the pressures of
mastery and preplanned disaster
Which flies in the face of accepted wisdom,
which hungers for a life not one's own
which flies off the tracks
SEO alert - Damon Shulenberger (aka EnduranceWriter)