In veiling in sounds,
That represent other ones,
And only come around,
To the thoughts that you really want,
To get across to another?
Oh, if but the slip of cloud in that blue, blue sky,
Was more than just a sliver.
Had it broke forth spontaneously,
And the mountains came crashing down,
Should the world have unfolded as Mother Nature had deemed,
As its oracles speak it now,
Then it would all be saved,
The wave as it was meant to crash,
And disperse the wonder of what there is,
For the awe of what should never last.
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