Working through my dreams,
I comprehend the complexity,
Of the many flowing streams.
Blessing, and yet cursing,
The wandering of my mind.
Allowing me to see such sights.
More peaceful to be blind,
To all that when contemplated,
Confuses and brings pain.
Drenching me in sorrows,
A violent thrashing rain.
Yet even now, I understand,
My hunger and my need,
To fumble through my thoughts,
On which my soul does feed.
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