Circles Without End

 



Far too many tongues twist and twirl,
Caught in loops where thoughts unfurl.
A maze of words, a endless chase,
No straight path, no resting place.
They dance in rings of hollow sound,
Feet tethered to familiar ground,
A carousel of fleeting cries,
Reflected in their mirrored eyes.
Circles spin, the mind’s own snare,
Echoes bounce through hollow air.
They seek the door, the silent rift,
But shadows blur the way to shift.
Each phrase a thread that binds them tight,
A labyrinth born of endless night,
Where meaning fades in ceaseless din,
And exits vanish where they’ve been.
Voices drone, a tangled thread,
Repeating what was never said.
The air grows thick with stale refrain,
A chorus lost to its own strain.
They clutch at truths they cannot name,
Yet circle back, the same, the same,
A spiral carved by doubt’s design,
A prison built of wandering lines.
The exit hides in plain disguise,
Lost to those with circling eyes.
It whispers soft beneath the roar,
A stillness they cannot explore.
For every loop, a chance to stray,
A quiet step to break away,
But habit holds their tongues in thrall,
And round they go, through rise and fall.
Oh, to break the spiral’s hold,
To speak a line, both sharp and bold,
To cut the knot of endless talk,
To find the key within the lock.
For in the pause, the truth may gleam,
A fleeting wake from circling dream,
A breath to part the clouded veil,
Where words align and doubts grow frail.
Yet still they whirl, a restless tide,
With exits buried deep inside.
Far too many lost to see,
The silence sets the spirit free.
Beyond the rings of thought’s charade,
A clarity that won’t degrade,
Awaits the one who dares to stand,
And loose the circle’s binding band.

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