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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Saturday, July 31, 2010


Look where we are going

Hand in hand.

The last time we spoke

When the directions


Are your fingers cold?

Or mine too hot?

But what do we care,

The road must be laid


There are beggars if we go this way,

And thugs this way.

Where were the angels again?

Will you lead me?

Will I ask?

The wind picks up

And blows the dirt away.

We aren’t exactly shining,

Are we, sunshine?

And finally when the path seemed right,

I realized that

You weren’t.

Did it hurt me

When your heart didn’t exactly shatter?

I wonder.

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