
A whisper beckoning
Beyond near sight, constantly
Calling one forth down
Depths and dimensions
Ever echoing through halls long
Fallowed and forgotten, yet somehow strangely
Growing in familiarity, only to be
Habitually lost over and again
In the noise and increasing intensity of schizophrenic
Jumping and static activity
Kinetic vibrations unending ceaselessly
Looping and lilting in
Magnetic momentum, maddeningly
Never-ending, never ceasing
Only easing or
Potentially perhaps to
Quieten and quell and finally to be laid at
Rest in
Solace and silence
Through the long-awaited
Union with the
Voice, that forever echoes the
Whisper, calling you forth to
X
Your
Zenith



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