The dust settles down ever slowly. The footsteps are long gone. Still the dust settles down slowly. Why is it dusty? The current that has lapsed has lapsed forever. Nobody can change the past. The future holds the promise, not the past. The present is the continuation of the past. Then why falter? Yesterday was good. Won’t tomorrow be better, even if the present is unwonted?
Day carries with it a heavier burden of time, and the rising sun is so false for it dispels not this darkness. What light does it promise when everything has been snuffed out of my life?
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