11 eyes, 3 eyes, one eye, if an eye is looking it can see.
May I take a gander down a path gone before, spells and words spin the dust from mid ground.
It's smoke filled with shimmers of rattles, a deep drum beat that lulls the step in time.
Scents of jasmine and rose meander here and thicker there.
A look deep in the woods and the amber tone of the setting sun catches your eye on the long fallen leafed ground, layered with tree limbs, through fresh green you can see how life starts, with decay.0
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