Window


Behind glass and wood that looks through brightness

Always Prolong and sitting boxed in that looms in shadow

out there witnesses the dreams that want to be

Out there seeing many life

Hides from weakness and illnesses to be seen from the eyes and not and being inflicted

It echos and ripples through out with no moment in between

Wondering if there’s any scenario to achieve

Only to hear more echoes

Never hearing any calls or see any calls

Sitting and hoping for something

While specks come.

Specks stay.

Specks go.

One, It is getting close.

While the echo still looms

There is a grip but there is much force holding back

There are wishes it would’ve ended many moons ago.

Only that many a received the call

The shadow may not only hold with a tight grip

A grip that paralyzes and drains

It is only ignore to fill spite and ignorance

Spreading only the unnecessary while that stands on the border

It’s actions strikes many times. In return the window slowly cracks but it slowly opens for an escape.

The rays piercing through is what keeps the life

Always singing into the drums to keep running.

Getting there

Still Getting there

Will get there

Despite the echoes

That comes and goes.

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