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Sands
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Beauty If love is like the water rippling at your feet, then why are the waves roaring?
Time is in the hands of the hour glass, the sand is trickling down to it’s end.
One begins to wonder why they can not turn the sands of time to it’s rightful side.
The side that shows no evil.
The one that does not stop flowing unless held in the wrong hands.
Where are your sands?
