So tainted after all these years,

not much fires the spark, or reduces to tears.

 

Awe is relative, always building on bigger things,

the more we see, the less life brings.

 

Once in a while, more rare these days,

by surprise, the world still finds a way.

 

Wordless sights, evoke forgotten chords,

just a sunset, but still, so beyond words.

 

Stoic

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