a hollow, resounding

The pulse

The nerves

The burning in me

Is the ebb of the ocean

The splash of the sea

 

The truth

The future

The fire in me

Is the forest in the acorn

The pod in the pea

 

It's not a metaphor,

Physically,

The earth's dreams

and beams

Oh, it screams!

and how softly

I ECHO. 

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