the writer takes up his keyboard
and composes a delicate tune
that hovers between absurd and cliche
here, it is presented to you
to read between the words
and see no meaning
the autumn wind does not retreat
from the celestial source
even on a solsticial moon-month
(lunarity prevailing)
solar sleep amid symphonies
the beacon is lit
and the march begins
will you follow?
will you tumble down the cliffs
and swim for the mythical shore?
will you give your soul
to find your soul?
you know too much already
this you must forget
and listening so well
you must now learn to speak
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1 comment:
Nice!
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