Time
Is Naught For Me
Time has come to a stand still.
Surreal myst surrounds me
As I gaze into my own uncertain
future.
I wonder, where does love go when it
isn't?
Is there a dark hole it falls into
When we are not looking?
Is it possible to see it if
We stand on the other side?
Would it come out feeling the same,
Or be fragmented into a million ionic
fragments?
Time is naught for me,
Swirling moments of before are all
around.

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