Thursday, September 17

if it all burns in the fire.

I feel the hands of time
weaving its magic around me;
working wonders right before my eyes.
Subtle tingles radiate inside,
every wrinkle, line on my face,
a tad more magnified than usual.
I don't feel tired at all,
Or I've lost all feeling in me?
Still I sense these invisible hands
have much work to do to sway
this much travelled wanderer
towards more pathways seldom trod.

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