Breath in, breath out

Woe, the day she mourns me so

my little wandering soul

always seeking, never still

as the fish within a bowl,

the nature makes its course

footing for me to trek

lonesome steps across the way

perchance to break the neck,

heavy weighed I make my way

the journey of a thousand miles

years upon years turned over

through grass and bloodied tiles,

weep she does through out the hours

watching my failing flesh

moving steadfast through nowhere

till I meet no time and rest.

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