That circle which hides no
Meaning concealing only the
Beginnings of it’s self now resides
Upon a shelf whilst perceiving
To be a square in it’s imaginations
Shadows hang there where used
To be no darkness is where light
Cannot see past the shadows walls
Of haziness in which light is danced
To become that which she is not
Lost to the keen eyes view of speed
And light as dances is the dream
Of confusion seen by you and me