Through myriad days mountains emerge
A tiny thing managing grandeur
Wind the hand from which you bear resemblance
To yourself
A feat worthy of noting, as you have never smiled
These heavy movements you struggle to employ
Alert no one of your existence
This is no tiny thing, I promise you
So,
Cling onto the things you thought you had loved
For they are the only buoyancy you'll find
In the strong undertow of regret
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