Time ceaselessly slips slowly through my fingers as I strain to grasp hold of some tenuous meaning
Progeny of Isolation, born of that dark crypt wherein boys are cast and this unfinished man was molded
Brought forth in desolation, searching for some mysterious amorphous
Undefined
Elusive solutions evade resolution
Questions lie scattered along the path
As I set out once again for some
Unknown destination
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| Category:
Thoughts
This entry was posted
on Sunday, May 11th, 2008 at 6:56 pm.
