-I sit here in the dark of the night the dark of the soul bathed in a pale glow of a screen yet wrapped in a blanket of words the hum of a machine fan with a faint tick, a line read - sounding its imminent demise - burning through the eyes - a thing to fix finding its place to rest in my mind. The tap of keys a search for meaning words scrolling truth - fighting to find the balance composition on a computer chaos finding order save - delete - ignore - try again my self cries out for my soul poetry on a processor hearts holding hands.
Tri*al"i*ty (?), n. [L. tres, tria, three.]
Three united; state of being three.
H. Wharton.
© Webster 1913.
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