By Daniel Paiz

Sometimes an idea just comes to you. You have to shape it, scrape, erase and face it. Give it a bit of time and then sit and design. This part wasn’t supposed to be poetic, to be honest.

Sometimes that just how words are forged.

Forged

Forged with the elements,

the mountains,

and weathered by time,

eons are the blink of an eye,

time is difficult to properly experience,

different zones and places, it’s such a myriad,

Convalescing after such battles implored,

the focus is key to wielding interiors of gold.

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Mining, seeking,

searching for meaning,

impurities witnessed as water cascades clearly,

there’s a channel ahead that clears up what’s been,

and reminds of foundations built within,

there’s plenty of emotions to process and extoll,

quiet the noise so that only the babbling trickles forth,

history repeats itself is the mantra to behold.

Bonus info

Check out the audio version of the written words you just witnessed.