Lens

Tapping on the floor
I pace the value of my time
And train my patience.
External observers can judge my work
And evaluate my knowledge
Like a rough diamond under the lens
But no eye can know it all.

Echoes

My inner valley is crowded
Of angry and righteous echoes
But no exit is found
And the energy builds up
To feed stubbornness and mental rollercoasters.
The exit is found and the gate is open
Over a profound burst of power.

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