The days are shorter. Nearer and distant. The hours are countless, far and a mist. The power has drifted and turned with the wind. The story keeps ending and starting again. The mind is wicked but also so kind. It’s in a struggle to not waste time. One is more feeling and one is more thoughts. But one takes over and the other forgot. So easy to clench. So easy to burn. When nothing comes and nothing is earned.