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floating
feeling
or something
less
similar?

It’s quite nice, now that
I have regained “normal” senses.
But it still seems so
very
strange.
I don’t remember much, but—
Now I see it all.

There wasn’t much to regret,
Nothing much left at all.
Some things, perhaps, I would like to have done
But find myself as complete without having done so.

and so
I must
carry on.

But how do I?

I must carry on.
I can never really stop.
But I can wait a little while,
Can’t I?

A white dog beckons to me.
To follow him is to carry on.
But for now I wait in this ivory garden,
Among flowers of icy stone.

I can
wait
for a little more.

An eternity and a half—
That’s only a little while,
Isn’t it?
©2005-2009 ~GrungeHamster389
:icongrungehamster389:

Author's Comments

One of a few poems we had to write in enghon; this one took all of sixty seconds to write, out of last-minute desperation. But I like how it turned out. The theme for this one was "vicarious."

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June 1, 2005
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