The mind buzzes with nothing;
white noise amounts a plethora of happening.
Thoughts are. They Think.
A world away shouts worry.
The hour keeps coming, and going,
and staying, deep breaths flood the body with air,
cells tingle, the frantic stillness screams.
Piercing silence. Sounds.
Canvas is blank, brushstrokes are forgotten.
The hour is forgotten, experience flourishes,
the minds desires shuffles,
in nothing.
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