Like a silent chant in an alien language
a small wind blows through a creeky swamphouse
and the trees softly wave their leaves
as if answering the strange call
and thus a force from afar is awoken
and another entity senses its rising
thus both set foot towards the meeting point
although both are oblivious to it
at a pace where a bird flies
and from a distance a star shines its light
there rises the source
of that strange windy thing
that brings a fleeting feeling with it
and sways the trees in sorrow
how is it that there's always something to gain?
where all you see is lost...
and how is it that there's some hope left?
where all is so glum...
it's such an equation of opposites
filled only with irony
where will it end?
maybe that's where both will meet
that opposites and that irony
then we'll see a clash
or maybe it's a peace treaty
of some kind of musing it'll be
and we'll see some change
that's for sure
perhaps it's for the best
or maybe it's for the worst
but maybe it's just not to be bothered with
a change of time
some peace of mind
and a little pinch of hope
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