My eyes grow heavy as I sit and read the thoughts and scriptures of past and present friends in a digital age. The house is silent with sounds of solice. I hear the waves come and go, grow and retract, accelerate and slow while natures tears cover the peering glass. Amethysts below the slumber recharge the weakened soul, the cries and heavy breath of GAIA cause the chimes to dance with precision with what seems to be a good night song to soften even stone hearts. I cannot resist the calming whisper of my ancestors spells hidden in the chimes on the wind as I succumb to their every word. The windows to the soul now carry the weight of the gods, losing the battle to endure one more passage but fail. The soothing whispers of the chimes on the wind proves victorious again.
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