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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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