intro-spection

my eyes are my own
in a twisted wilderness
sworn to tantrums
of emotion
swarming up from the ground

I watched from a tower
as cool winds embraced
the guitar
of a twilight
like an unknown lyre

my voice is my own
and the swirling books
of an endless night
become patronage

I wander, stricken
swallowed up by trees
towering in tablets
learning me

No comments:

Post a Comment