I’ve decided I cannot measure time,
it is a waste to try.
As long as flowers wilt to grow again,
this process, I will imitate.
When night meets morning, in this cycle, forever reforming.
Knowledge is a pedestal which my viscera cannot compete with.
I meet a certain understanding of the world,
but completion will never be seized.
Senses and learning go hand in hand,
with sight, with sound, with nerves to comprehend.
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