Growing, in balance and aligned…

Time for the wherewithall to approach the night skies..
in an abrupt sentence of coming forth abruptly..
new pauses await the divine recreation of man..
a sentence grows, lingering in spaces unknown to most..
changing a dialect so pure and becoming..
meander along a boundary in balance with the breezes aloft..

catch chariots in time and recreate the cycle pattern of growing faceplants on your mind
left
from
the center of it all
in a patient recreation of cycles inevitable and togetherness imploring
in
the center
it balances out the rest
halfway down the hill, we decide the rest…
in the meantime, reworked mindsets approach a new light in day times sending beams of energy to the new person in charge..
nothingness in divine recreations..
fallout tendencies erupt in flame and dying light..

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