
Day 72: Darkest hours
Shattered skies, black with shapes all sizes. Another day passes as the absent sunshine rises. The dark star no longer glowing, just a misty air all-knowing of past memories. This hour now filled of doubt, west or east it searches for a new route to find how ‘what now’ will ever be.
Seeing is only a reflection of inner controversy – a greed that is sewn on too tight. A slight glimmer of light as the misty star turns and burns away. This night has eyes wide shut for fright of tomorrow.
Remember the good times,
Julian
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