Count down to the end of time,
Time moving slowly it seems.
A stagnant water merely flowing,
A time machine to travel beyond our time.
All our quandary speeding ahead of us.
Tugging us as it travels through life.
YOU ARE READING
The Open Canvas [Poetry]
PoetryThe canvas is now open It is saturated with the remnants of my emotions and thoughts The canvas is englufed with the flames that burns throughout my mind Leaving the ashes behind The ashes that have now been used to paint the words left unsaid Some...
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