Fragmented in time for my mind
remaining whole truth of my soul
looking through each segment as if it were the All
gentle whispers I hear to remember the Call
over focus of my eyes to a point on the line
the image blurs rather than be crystal clear
what is this paradox I fear?
it is not real ?
for deep within I Know
it may only appear
for purpose of experience
yet, is Not the actual experience
so is it a mystery or game?
or are they one and the same?
no guilt and shame
there is no punish in the rules, realize the muse
to be amused
denial to be refused
dance dance dance Mulin Rouge
Joy and happenstance
in moments of
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