I am sitting here, awaiting my return

I am sitting here, awaiting my return.

A triumphant horn to sooth my burns.

A sound that bears the meaning of bliss,

I feel I’m far too old for this.

Listen for your beckoning.

Hoping for, but reckoning

nothing more than seconding your emotions.

I am a stone in a glance and my heart does the dance

of a thousand men in harmony. Won’t you please be a part of me?

Please be a part of me.


Create until nothing is left to create.

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