One day,
I heard a writer say,
Pretend your soul is a record player
And listen untill every song is played.

Listen to the music behind the sound,
Find all that is meant to be found.
Let the noise take you,
Let it bring you to where you belong.

Leave the battles thought to be fought,
As glorified wars meant to be sought.
And smile once you’ve discover
The serenity of constraint forever lost.
 
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