The weight of the world
Is hurled on shoulders
So steep
It slides right off
Crashing down
Down
Down
Up on the rooftops
The chimney sweeps
Hard at work
The ash is falling
Like burnt snow
In the land of time
Illusions are not darkness
But darkness is
The illusion
Overshadowing
So much
That it is often forgotten
That light is needed
For shadows
To even exits
Darkness is not alone
It holds up a fancy
Charade of self
All alone
As though nothingness exists
Nothing cannot exist
Because even the mention
Of nothing
Is only is relation to something
Time
Time
Time
Turning back
Moving forward
In the Stillness
For some reason
The illusions are sometime
In focus
More than the truth
More that what is actually
Set before us.
The sigh
Is present
Is it relief?
Tall trees
Have known bended knees
Have known and weathered
Many storms
Tall trees
Have heard all the words
Caught all the whispers
And attended
To many
The care
The sigh
Is in the wind
In the Spirit
Welcome
And look up
Not down
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