Thoughts arise from third eye
and die as a writers lie
like Waves born from Oceans depth
disappear on the shores step,
ideas take gray shape
in the contours of mind space
like water coloring the earth blue
only to the shape of land left clue
lines I cry out aloud
to be echoed in broken voice
like the pregnant cloud
which burst back oceans life
last few thoughts flicker
before the smoke lingers
like the receding tide
which lost to sands might
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