Morning breeze creeps in,
flushes my soul out.
Weights hang, lighter in
the still of pre-dawn,
still unde the cover of darkness.
Running to the West.
Lighter minds, lowered censors,
Memory awakens.
There’s nothing new that can
come to mind,
only from within, we,
the only point source of all
returns.
Crying to hear, no being
released from itself.
The crack of sunlight peers through
a far flung slit,
I am forced towards it.
