You mention this to me as I gaze through fog shrouded windows and hear troubled waters churning in your soul's rock strewn river bed.
This stream I have traveled but briefly, and the sunlight's scattered reflections bring forth recollections of my youth, when I wandered this earth pure and joyous with each step.
The deep brown of your gaze a silent grove of rich soil, and the plants therein smell of morning mist on a spring sunrise, lulling me back to a tranquility I should ne'er have forgotten.
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