A wild way,
A mild way,
Any which way,
We move with the wind.
Down the corridors it comes,
Stretching back
To before
Time even began.
I feel
Its hot breath
As it whispers
In my ear.
I choose
How to listen,
I choose
How to act.
History speaks,
I honour it,
Yet,
I am not it.
I am
My own man,
Forged in time,
Living now.
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