𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

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I dream of a world beyond this one
Not of the death of me but perhaps instead of this harsh reality,
What it's like to escape into a realm of your choosing,
A library with infinite knowledge, more shelves than could be counted in a lifetime, ivy and moss along the sides of the polished yet dusty wooden shelving overgrown yet intact despite the time that had passed there.

Or perhaps an undiscovered forest behind each tree something new to uncover and find as you tread through the greenery and sludge the sticks crunching beneath your feet as you continue to venture on. What could the future hold? what path lies ahead?

Life is like a dream, one which I barely remember but I get to experience it over again and again, each time in a vastly different way.
Here I am again, Here I am again, Deja vu.

-Alex

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲)Where stories live. Discover now