Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The vine

What's a hollow man to do
with the fragility they call me-
enough emotions to fill
the bottomless oceans
and at sea side-
it's the holes and crescendos
bearing the depths of my mind.

While you are settling down
like a sun setting on time-
I struggle with the demonic waves
that come and go,
sorry and surprise.

All the time we fast forward

only to find that we rewind.

and we die a little bit each day

from our once perfect vine.


I don't understand at times why
bewildered bodies have to die-
When the soul is crystallized and feeling fine-
Time steps in to steal the night.

Eyes oblige, but mostly cry
as we suffice to the thickest drops of dew tonight

Oh Divine One up in a sky so white:

Why'd you interrupt the strongest eagle
during the best flight of his life?