Sometimes my thoughts are loud,
Almost like thunder.
Sometimes I wonder,
if the moon can hear them,
when it’s late at night,
And the wind doesn’t sing,
The sun cannot bring-
it’s blazing, vivid light,
To cover the moon’s gentle night.
The stars can agree,
they know what’s meant to be.
Is it truly meant to be, if we can’t see?
Or so the sun says.
Meant To Be
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Power Brings Greed.
Moving mountains,
Falling fountains,
Whispers of time,
And whatever is mine.
Holding power,
A complex shower,
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Magnetic
Drawn to the sky,
A magnet within a sigh.
The gleam I know all too well,
With words to say, stories to tell.
Wrapping around me,
Rooted in denial,
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