Change was never a hollow space,
a missing piece, a thing replaced.
It was the rhythm of time unfurled,
a shift, a breath, a turning world.
not erasing, but reshaping space.
A book, a journey, a transitory rest
small rewrites in time’s request.
She held her ground, her steadfast view,
unchanging, firm, and wholly true.
Yet life, with whispers soft or stern,
can twist the path, can force a turn.
She didn’t know, she couldn’t see,
that change was waiting patiently.
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