A Fortress at the end

May 14, 2012
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As I lay in this frivolous fortress
of pillows and blankets intertwined with
doubts, regrets, memories and ideas, I
daze to the left wondering where the strange

black hole really leads to. Only the clock
upon the wall will tell. But after the
trip around the moon, or the plunge into
the deep blue, we all return to the fortress.

So I let myself be one with the dark;
embrace this mindless minute when the clock
sits still and the black hole is to my left.
Comforting is the thought of the fortress.





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