I do not trust my thoughts today,
Of what’s outside–what now remains,
A mystery,
You can hardly see,
Passes at night,
While you drift in sleep.
In the clouds in the sky,
In the wind it seems,
A probing voice,
Of what the world will see,
A whisper sound,
A language broken,
Without recognition,
Since no one has spoken.
In the darkest woods,
In the deepest sea,
It listens there,
Watches silently.
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Published on September 12, 2019 16:00