Time dragging on, but oh too slowly.
Humming and bangs sporadic in their comings.
Joyous altercations, but what does it mean?
Previous writings enter through, line by line.

These empty pages filling with blackness.
Occupied by laughter of ones unknown.
"Don't look up" echoing through.
How much more room is there here (to be used)

Finally the fog had been lifted
Words were pouring out.
Good, bad, alterable.
But all to be kept all the same.

Noticing how style had changed
Now everything ad changed with this brand new...
what was the thing brand new?
Everything remained the same.