When there's too much to say, and I just don't know where to begin, I'll spin in this silence, and turn cyclones inside out. I'll rip through a thousand time frames, adjust the lay of the land, and spontaneously combust.
And the silence will bear no longer. The sound of a thousand thoughts and memories will crush mountains like wanton boys would to flies. God would tremble in the wake of such rapture.
But what price will I pay to finally let go of this symphony swirling in the depths of their grandeur?
And the silence will bear no longer. The sound of a thousand thoughts and memories will crush mountains like wanton boys would to flies. God would tremble in the wake of such rapture.
But what price will I pay to finally let go of this symphony swirling in the depths of their grandeur?
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