Knowing flows within my bones
Although I cannot see or feel
I grasp at straws and hope
For summer
The fire burning away
Gentle streams of moon
Golden fields gleaming
In the afternoon sun
All around, I see
The world seems mine, and I
Can hardly breathe
As I wait for
Someone to tell me
To open my eyes
And begin
The world seems to tell me
Through the whispering wind
And harsh cries of crows
Beating wings, as if
They always knew
There is no end

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