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The Wondering, The Wandering and The Waiting

A passing moment given to dance, in figment's dream of mind


A faulted flailing that cuts to quick, leaving sorrow far behind


A longing gaze at nothing there, floating amid the clouds


But what could be stirs deepest seas and bids our ego bow.



A winding road to trod ahead, this weaving trail to blaze


A hunger pang for more than naught, we have to seek our name


A second glance at passing worlds, whom careless float on by


Yet we heed and compass leads, daring its way to try



A languished fare that tarries there, still and far behind


A patterned glaze that breeds malaise, and forces all to grind


A second hope that glitters most, somewhere beneath the sea


These waters pooled and given rule to play within our means.



A threefold braid this knotted way, creation all in kind


A resound therein this beckoned din, desire to call thine


A ceaseless stride and scent alive, tread onward as the hound


Never cease to chase the dream which in human heart abounds.




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