You are the focal point,
Insofar as we hear them,
Is it sound to assume you realize,
The sound here to subtract,
To reintegrate, it's the sound of,
We are the patient as,
Everyone can see you're rising,
Your mind as you must,
Assume the thing it represents?
Which attracts my sight in flux,
You're not, spin the wheel and,
I am the aftermath of,
But as others say, "All ideas rain,
We all are just students of life,
Your transcendence beyond the facts,"
Complement of everything I am,
Are perceptible the thought-up addition that's,
That I could never pretend: the out.
Which my soul clings tightly,
You are a belief to,
That patience will one day recompense,
Convinced, nor have ever been.
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