Thursday, 16 March 2017

Just How?

If I can shut away the cynic for a minute 
Then, perhaps this world will dance 
With me to my tune 
Or swing me to the moon
Pray, how does one shut one self off?

If I can close my eyes to tomorrow
Then, perhaps today will be golden-hued
And paint your colour on my hand
Or fly me on her dreams to your land 
Pray, how does one close what isn't here?

All day long, I search among words
Those thunderstroms and volcanoes
All night long, I ward off waves of death

If I can drown myself in ashes of moments
Burnt by our bodies and souls together 
Then, perhaps, this story will stop to haunt
Pray, how does one seek a day without desire?


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