W.B. Yeats
I wish the near full moon Cabal and I walked under at 4:43am would have revealed what my dreams are to be. I no longer know them or recognize them. The ripple in the once clear water illuminated by the moon has distorted the images into a grotesque comedy, leaving me with muddied colors.
I've asked for Clarity, but what I get is Uncertainty. More than is necessary, I think.
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