A growing force
- upwards of course -
builds my sight
over night.
From roots has grown,
a new child is born.
Walking along
fictional roads,
my friends.
Where everything
finds it self in the end.
Living out of body
- floating free.
In that state you'll find me.
Imaginary are the worlds
gentle shifts; tales growing
of fairies - make-believe!
Reallity is just a word
of evidence for what seems
to make the most sence...
All is good
as it should.
Nothing wrong
about my song.
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