It is time.
So it seems, from the signs I see.
Is it time?
I wonder, from the storms raging within me.
Well, it must be time from this unceasing song.
The symphony that I cannot seem to quiet snuff out or quench.
This beautiful song of life.
A word, a glance, a thought, a gesture. Speculating on what is, what is going to be, what might be.