23 mars 2008

A glance



'Am Roaming high above the ground,
There staring at Heavens, Restless.
On homeward bound.

Wits stirred up,
Sweet queen mother death-cup
Offers silenced Stillness
Worship, Madness.

Mourning willows,
Morning will, owes.
Shining dust burst in,

stir of an eyelid:  out of a dream.

Posté par Mush Room à 02:59 - Commentaires [0] - Permalien [#]

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