Too many thoughts
With not enough hours in one year
To really express to you
How much I truly care
You see my slow walk
Is crafted by your slow chase
The way you touch my soul
Allowing my spirit to secure my faith
It is you I wish for my dreams to be
The Artificial intellect of the prophecies
In which I speak,
scripted from the Egyptian sands
Which make up the deep-rooted soles
Under my feet
so slowly I will continue to walk
And glide on the sounds of your voice
When I Listen to You Talk
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