I waited for the lonely man seems I waited half my life. I waited till the colours poured out of existence. I waited till the birds fell from the clouds like black stones. I waited till there was nothing but scribbles and impressions. Then he came, lonely man. Along a road that was only an idea, where his shadow was my eye. We met with a certain embrace, knowing the time at last had come and with his arm across my shoulder he led me back to home.
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The search is over ....comfort in finding an inner meaning and reality you thought wasn't there.