Someone once told me the end of all things is just the beginning

       The end of time more of a thought then a place

People come and go

They see the end and bask in its vastness

    They ask the guru

    For he is wise

He tells them all they wish to know

And they leave again

    Fading through the black starlit majesty

    Shifting like melodies in a song

Each person their own signature of time

    Their own time of thought

04/02/2005

Posted on 04/02/2005
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