Lights that shine from the ceiling right above my eyes
Brightness penetrating thoughts and stopping motion,
Frozen in time until it starts to turn around again.
The world resumes its spinning
And its nearness to the burning fire, blinding ceiling
A clanging of the bells, the perpetual chiming bells
Rhythmic even in their despair
It sets movements back to the ceaseless cycle,
A life in repetition.

 
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