And as she turns we do not feel her: Four seasons pass in several shades; life, the given spark to ignite the flame. Time past is spent. Only to be waved away without a care? Then failing... falling on bruised knees: For troubled souls seek a simple prayer faced with the complexities of faith. Oh... who is he without a name? Why so many players at the game? Where for art thou footsteps leading? Hearts who suffer much are bleeding. Youth lacks compassion; it's the fashion; all is given and then taken. Mankind's instinct to survive... his consciousness brief as he travels through time and space, spinning into eternity: As she turns we do not feel her. For Juliana, Irene and Jane. France March 2004
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