A mere cosmic mistake? Nah! I must be a sculpture by some seasoned…
Pattern of Life… a poem
It strikes;
you wish or not.
It does strike –
the vehement anguish of knowing
everything that was, is and will be
ahead.
I saw your rise.
I see my fall.
Surmise.
I knew always.
My truth is beyond your lies.
You still rise.
I still fall.
I have never been.
I have seen it all
already.
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