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In the labyrinth of the mind, so deep and vast,

In the labyrinth of the mind, so deep and vast,  
Thoughts weave through corridors, shadowed and fast.  
Whispers of dreams and echoes of time,  
Dance in the recesses, rhythm and rhyme.
Neurons spark in a ceaseless ballet,  
Ideas like fireflies, flicker and sway.  
Memories are tapestries, rich and unfurled,  
Threads of the past in a canvas unfurled.
Waves of reflection, turbulent streams,  
Cradle the remnants of fractured dreams.  
In this quiet storm, where silence does reign,  
Thoughts are the constellations, the stars in the brain.
In the labyrinth of the mind, so deep and vast,  
Thoughts weave through corridors, shadowed and fast.  
Whispers of dreams and echoes of time,  
Dance in the recesses, rhythm and rhyme.
Neurons spark in a ceaseless ballet,  
Ideas like fireflies, flicker and sway.  
Memories are tapestries, rich and unfurled,  
Threads of the past in a canvas unfurled.
Waves of reflection, turbulent streams,  
Cradle the remnants of fractured dreams.  
In this quiet storm, where silence does reign,  
Thoughts are the constellations, the stars in the brain.
Fleeting, they dart, like birds in flight,  
Navigating the darkness, searching for light.  
Yet in their transience, a beauty remains,  
For they shape the essence of our joys and our pains.
In the quiet moments when stillness is near,  
Thoughts forge their patterns, both crystal and clear.  
Epiphanies glimmer like shards of the sun,  
Revelations unfolding, the work of each one.
Philosophies mingle, collide, and retreat,  
Woven in dialogues both bitter and sweet.  
In this inner cosmos, where ideas take flight,  
Thoughts chart the unknown, defy day and night.
Through labyrinthine paths and cerebral streams,  
They sculpt our reality, build our dreams.  
In the heart of this tempest, where echoes entwine,  
Thoughts are the essence, the soul's design.
Fleeting, they dart, like birds in flight,  
Navigating the darkness, searching for light.  
Yet in their transience, a beauty remains,  
For they shape the essence of our joys and our pains.

©twisha ray Randoms 
#trnojo134
#thoughtful
In the labyrinth of the mind, so deep and vast,  
Thoughts weave through corridors, shadowed and fast.  
Whispers of dreams and echoes of time,  
Dance in the recesses, rhythm and rhyme.
Neurons spark in a ceaseless ballet,  
Ideas like fireflies, flicker and sway.  
Memories are tapestries, rich and unfurled,  
Threads of the past in a canvas unfurled.
Waves of reflection, turbulent streams,  
Cradle the remnants of fractured dreams.  
In this quiet storm, where silence does reign,  
Thoughts are the constellations, the stars in the brain.
In the labyrinth of the mind, so deep and vast,  
Thoughts weave through corridors, shadowed and fast.  
Whispers of dreams and echoes of time,  
Dance in the recesses, rhythm and rhyme.
Neurons spark in a ceaseless ballet,  
Ideas like fireflies, flicker and sway.  
Memories are tapestries, rich and unfurled,  
Threads of the past in a canvas unfurled.
Waves of reflection, turbulent streams,  
Cradle the remnants of fractured dreams.  
In this quiet storm, where silence does reign,  
Thoughts are the constellations, the stars in the brain.
Fleeting, they dart, like birds in flight,  
Navigating the darkness, searching for light.  
Yet in their transience, a beauty remains,  
For they shape the essence of our joys and our pains.
In the quiet moments when stillness is near,  
Thoughts forge their patterns, both crystal and clear.  
Epiphanies glimmer like shards of the sun,  
Revelations unfolding, the work of each one.
Philosophies mingle, collide, and retreat,  
Woven in dialogues both bitter and sweet.  
In this inner cosmos, where ideas take flight,  
Thoughts chart the unknown, defy day and night.
Through labyrinthine paths and cerebral streams,  
They sculpt our reality, build our dreams.  
In the heart of this tempest, where echoes entwine,  
Thoughts are the essence, the soul's design.
Fleeting, they dart, like birds in flight,  
Navigating the darkness, searching for light.  
Yet in their transience, a beauty remains,  
For they shape the essence of our joys and our pains.

©twisha ray Randoms 
#trnojo134
#thoughtful
twisharay1409

twisha ray

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