I wandered,
With hands brimming with illusion,
And a patient vision
Trailing after me.
Its feet
As though brushing the hem of the sky.
I followed,
It wandered slowly,
Among the crickets,
Whose chorus, once lost,
lingered beyond the long sighs of a night,
Left unsung in their song.
In its shadow,
A forest appeared—
Abandoned by the sky’s embrace.
Yet the clouds wept,
Quiet in their mockery
Of a pond that...
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