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ILLUSION OF HEIGHT-
The river runs dry.
The stone lies unturned.
Can an eagle soar with un-feathered wings?
Or does he attain only the illusion of height?
Fiendish transgressions litter the soul.
Opportunities floundered torment the spirit.
Flashes of self-induced hazes cloud the mind.
The light beckons, the darkness inhibits.
Inspiration stunted, words are elusive.
Typing it down as it flows from my mind.
Pausing to crack open a sunflower seed.
Realization dawns in the chewing of the same.
Need to plant more seeds inside,
that my feathers may grow.
Until the illusion of height is no more,
and I am again soaring with my kind.