No matter where we're standing on this earth, you're always at the other end, it's too far away. All we made or wrote down or depicted, like a lost love song to the universe, reaches no one, there is no one to hear it, or so journey, on a roundabout satellite ?
They come right back down. What do we do with feelings returned back to their origin ?
Line up the ragged edges and make a new world.
To the end of all time.
Do we have to do this on our own ?
Maybe if we just stand still, all comes
Into sharp focus...
