We all know what it feels to be dead,
to be inside this skin tying us to the flesh,
fragile matter that bleeds,feels,and bends,
waiting in motion for the foreseen and awaited end...
Eating soil, dirt and bones,
while the flowers silently stare,
wondering what has happened to this species,
which eyes wander with disgrace..
For so long we've fought,
tearing ourselves apart for a piece of gold,
seeing our reflection on silver blades,
before they go down on our neighboors neck...
The rocks are telling us to stop,
the moon is sending tears to our burnt out lots,
the sun is burning the skin of everything that feels,
the earth is slowly dying...
while the wind,
blows and blows...
And meanwhile...
im tumbling down,
this silver spiral of truth,
and before you realize,
ill be hidden in some mountain...
still searching for the truth.
1 comment:
This must be a very inspirational day for you. These verses are great and have a personality all of their own. You've found a very productive conduit of expression the fruits of which are no less than enchanting. Now if only I could find that little thing called "discipline," or, as Eric Cartman puts it "disciplaaan." Then i'd be like a little shepard boy stirring the sands of the Sahara. Until then i'm at the will of the winds. Keep up the good work.
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