in this season of waking unrest
where all is in shadow
and night is an instant that stretches on forever
i have nothing to say.
who knows what it means
that there is no light
but also no tunnel?
who knows when the shroud likes to lift away?
there is a chaos and a murky swamp
my eyes are open underwater and they can't see
and nothing looks,
sounds beautiful
this time
i will not drown myself
in d i s t r a c t i o n
there is no detour,
no way but through.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment