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Writer's pictureCecily

Marching on.

The rested fibres of my being,

Cling on to what they know.

Hypnotised in comfort,

Deafening their siren cries!


Please stop bewitching my ideas!

All this chaos clouds my clarity.


Marching on,

I know, a simple choice seems fruitful,

So seemingly sweet and easy.

Tumbling, I keep tripping on these fibres.

Bellowing their voices as they tease me.


My own mind won't believe me...

I keep trying to remind her,

She can snap those fibres that bind her.


Time so dizzy from fighting to unwind her.

A kind thought or a smile I prescribe,

Keep marching on,

As the tide is controlled by moon.

Those fibres are in service of you!


Rise up with the sun this beautiful morning,

A new destiny, so vibrant is calling.

What nonsense to keep repeatedly falling,

If you know your path is true.

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27.04.24

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