​I wouldn’t say the grass it’s greener, can’t really say it’s not.

What we know we’ve never had, for all we know, is what we want.
So I’m always looking outward, to the stream 

Of blinding new horizons, rolling over me.

As always, with destruction comes renewal;

The marriage of the master and the tool.

Like a curious child staring into a tub of water,

Believing with all her heart she could see a fish,

And waiting past “too long”

To see the granting of her wish…

Our dream, to define the edges of an endless mirage.

When it surfaces, learn its purpose, and give it a name.

Dip it in color, we’ll look a miracle directly in the face.

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