Strain
For wary minds that tend to creep,
the weary mind it so does keep.
A beacon like a lightning rod,
The unbeknownst it tends to sod.
For in its dreary wakened sleep,
another question so does creep.
Without restraint, this thought to bear,
defines me as plain unaware.
Where do I find the left behind,
when it was only state of mind?
The consequence which we define,
of disembarking unto time.
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