underneath time, lays another layer of our world,
swathed in illusions
we created , then forgot.
a space both vast yet intimate
where, when remembered, we recognise
people, the moments
we chose - oh, all those
aeons ago.
but whilst we wear the forgetting-mask,
we bump again into those lessons
already been,
how many times we have to re-learn, wading
through foggy minds, relieved
only when a memory is
nudged through the mist,
those precious moments
we easily grasp when the mind
is awake
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