Like Dionysian weavers
of flags you march
in immortal chaos
dreams gasping
at peasant eyes
whose irises have lost
their brilliant color.
I love the coarse
courage that turns
your gears
and the orchestration
that insists they mesh,
the venom of truth
burning in the tears
of the defenseless.
Your Orphic trumpet
sounds the charge
in the gathering
constellations, and I
am born anew
in the stretto of your
contributions.
Impeccable Journey
Impeccable Journey
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
- hester_prynne
- Posts: 2363
- Joined: June 26th, 2006, 12:35 am
- Location: Seattle, Washington
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