Everything yet nothing to be wistful of
Yearning to fly or glide at least
Each stumble scatters the mirror
A thousand pieces lay in the dust.
Caress of raindrops only to see
They arise from the soul.
Often their currents, they carry me away
All is forgotten on the new shore.
I know not what to see
Gazing on the vast emptiness
Perhaps a caress
May disperse echoes from the past.
In the silence forms a murmur
A plea for a new beginning
Or an armor to adorn
And rebound from the deeds of the many.
Every rising merges what lay scattered
in hope of meeting the new dawn.
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