The walls staring down upon me ,
With the seamless gaps that pass me by,
reading the unfinished circles around,
painting a vision ,
with numbers down.
In a whirlpool that’s away,
listening to footsteps that echo in a crowd,
growing on the edge,
ready to tumble down
wishing for the dripping hail never to fall,
Easier to walk on water than,
to swim against the crowd,
For seeing the stars is always associated with the churning storm.
Stirring up the foundation of the unknown ,
Dreaming to look for the clouds in a fog ,
I drift ,I look in seven directions,
But just this void is always enough .