The Clearing
The clearing in the woods is where
I find solace and solitude
I call it “the glade” as it caresses
The covert, ceaseless, controlled calmness
That captures my core and character
Like a meditative mantra,
It manumits the melancholy misery
Of mundane mortality
Quiet and still, the glade is an asylum
For amnesty, absolution and
Apology of the mind
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