compass

I hear it again

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I hear it again
the faint ticking
much like that of crickets
outside a summer window

the voice
crystal clear
in even the largest of crowds
my un-subdued conscious

it guides me
my own north star
and my internal compass
it is all that is good

I thought it was gone forever
my days continually spiraled down a black hole
I heard little but the shadowy white noise
of this world

which cares little of me

I welcome
its candor and beauty
with open ears
and a full heart

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