Shared history renders us acquainted,

Nestled close like wheat, 

Souls entwined, like twins we stay,

Memory, the sole gateway.

The dregs you have swallowed and kept 

My whole spent in contrasts, unrestrained.

Smoke and fog 

light and shadow 

In form akin, but in nature, they evade.

I grow weary of the game,

Sometimes trapped in time's swirling frame.

Restlessly, I squirm and twist,

A pen has more wiggle than a pencil 

This movement of the multipurpose disturbs me 

I still seek simplicity,

a narrative defined.