Words come to me on the lips of a breeze
He is yearning for the gift
He wants and desires it all
My ears are tempted, I stop
I am open, I see his light
Quickly, he becomes engulfed in a life of circles
He is drowning in a current of wishes
Wisdom is offered, a cold deafening sight he becomes
Exhausted from the wait
I can sit no more
I walk away

Drew Frederic

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