Awake and four years older.
The picture never changes, only the focus tries.
When alone, sound is again pervading.
Wading through memories, so deep
The bottom I cannot perceive.
Or would not, if so able.
Trapped by the knowledge;
What we become haunts us
And what we were is true.
An endless melody,
The means justified by the intention.
Remain composed
Listen and breathe in.
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