Down the cobblestone stream
That turns in drain pipe angles
Past vapid pools of lingering thoughts
A lover sighs from an open window
In the empty animal heart of the night

Now come the relentless machines
Poked from their holes
To drive the mind.
This present moment, this past calls
This past condemns
This future foretells
The rolling seas of black
on black
The faceless stares that can't
Look back.
The pause
The reflection
Their time is complete
The temporal orchestra plays
You move forward
The past is behind you 
A contrail of glittering ghosts
Morphing from moods in fractal displays
There is no peace in understanding
Why do you try?
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