In the constant battle of fighting our instincts, uphill the climb were all short of breath
I am tired of fighting, would rather be yielding experiencing that which most forget
So I step outside, let go of my mind, and feel the plain unseen
I hear, I smell, I feel, I see, my senses sharp and keen
My heart beat drums to a churning storm; I take steps untraveled leaving my trail worn
Moving with no premeditation letting instinct lead me across the earth
Lay for an evening, no moving; no thinking
Just to see what nothing is worth

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