Mar 28, 2012

Over the Hills of Sanity

And it makes me wonder,
Do they ever travel by the road less taken?
Do they stop for a moment to stare at the blue sky, and question the wide horizon?

And I wonder,
Have they ever felt the need to float into thin ice?
Do they ever question being here?
Have they ever been amazed at the dawn? At the dusk/
Have they ever witnessed the stars making love to my soul?

Have they yearned for ascension? For a lazy summer dream?

But the fence is too high and the tide is too grey.
At those moments, I'm left to stray into yellow crispy hair.
The smokes surround my lungs,
Thin ice fading ...
Hay appearing from beneath the cracks.
The taste of noise,
The smell of wine,
Unexpectedly, the sandman walks in,
Chanting a requiem for the mare;
That hazy haunting shadow.

It's the bitterness of their touch upon my skin,
It burns,
It hurts,
It leaves marks,
It brands.

And into infinitesimal pieces I break
As I watch them compete over the throne of the Sun.

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