This discord from which you stare

Should be a light to burn from when you glare

Shadows befall and strangle your

Head from your neck so you’re choked tight

You have a gift of the art, itself in pots

A fall from the highest point of knowledge

The integral expressions of desire

Sets to its cloudy fragments

But nothing has been written on that sheet

It is as blank as the little piece of mind

Erased by the fear of the future, its stain, too perfect to design

I have also a globe of misdirection

But still stiff my neck to glorious parchments

Where wisdom is taught and understanding is precise

Why then will the time piece be colored back in black?

When all your thoughts hold are white pains in stains

The look in your soul prefers the enigma in softer words

Shallow enough to let a tear roll from the eye of the fish

So life rolls you in and around the neutral orbit of glitz and glam

You can entwine in the drum-rolls of the black man

But also shall dust travel to soil your friendship

So you too can borrow what brothers have leased

A pen for your thoughts, where no one can bother.

~2015, Jan~

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