Hyperion

 

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Writing is where I settle and ignite.
I wander.
But when I get back home to Writing
The thoughts that mutate and strangle me
No longer seem so wild
They are captured, rationalised
I feel closer to earth

Yet Writing is also where I can dream
Definite dreams
Bring distant ideas to the forefront
To consciousness
And let them live
In poems without rules
Caught between melancholy and expansion.

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