a heart groans
like thunder rumbling in the distance
a vibration,
a head turned up sensation
a deep bass
feel the weight in your limbs, in your face
blinking, thinking
being has been easier
and a boat rows into the coast
the sandy beach slows it without boast
and this heart finds hope in a home
as a billowing sail, blowing
guiding and alive, able to roam
bleeding red sail,
into a setting sun
a journey just begun
Be it, word it. Expression through woven threads known as words.
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