“Old and lost,
Hold my bones;
A twist of faith,
Regrets the age.

Always late,
Twist of fate;
Cry in haste,
Forgetful taste.

Change the match
To lit the axe;
I’ve built many a fire
Out of nothing.

The merry go round
Vanished, now unbound
From the invisible strings
That kept going the swings.

I have lost track –
I follow nothing but the dark,
Strange behaviour from a dreamer
That has lost all but keeps on giving.”



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