Through motions of the wind I move
The songs of demons were my grove
The spinning has stopped, here I sit
Contemplating the end. Is it
My purpose here to show the way
One should not go, and turn away?
Am I here to endure these tests
Until my body lays to rest?
How much longer is there to go?
I lack the power to oppose
The aura of depression's gloom
As it fills my soul, I'm consumed
Time rushes by, so silently
Still moving in the dark blindly
Meditating and pondering
Searching for answers, wandering
Copyright © 2009 Anthony Phillips (DUNTEE)
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