Thursday, September 20, 2018

THE GARDEN.



THE GARDEN

I am the garden where all time grows.
I am the river in which the water flows.

Time is broken like a hand,
that is swallowed up by sand.

Change is a promise that removes the heart;
in it, lies break apart.

Whatever moves, the light will wan;
time growls like a train.

What is burdened cannot be made whole,
the veil overcomes us all.

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