Fallow 175

The sun is rising
These days have run together
This weekend a blur

Chaos Storm on screen
A full fledged structure seeding
One more in the line

This line is finite
Even if functionally
It is infinite

On this day of rest
I feel tension holding me
Locked, though I'm mobile

With this strange voltage
I find rest amidst the storm
(As the storm itself?)

Reap(ing) the whirlwind
Wind sinking beneath the waves
One squall left to face

It will be worth it
Though separated for now
I sense gears turning

Cobbled together
Strange contraption of a ship
Approaching the shore 

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