Fragments of an intermittent cognizance

July 30, 2013 § 2 Comments

Chunks of soul – lost – taken away by dry heartfuls of the grey night. An ashen insanity; and the bitter cold of words. You can’t hold on to the lamp-posts in the final hour. Whispers, blowing through the streets. A dull echo of anticipation crawls on the walls. Lights, sharp, piercing, red, green and dull magenta. A white wing flaps against our visions. The bleak pole sings in cockcrow. Silence, spread like an endless chasm over the houses and buildings; and streets and pavements. Water – on the scent of every particle. The breathes are happy, full of promise and welcome. But the trees drown and grieve. So put your lockets, one by one, by the footpath. Grow them into gilded ladders. You could climb but the truths sting at heights. So step slow, lest the crystal scatters. And put out the ambers. The specks of being are blasphemous. Undo the designs, the restraints and all that’s amidst. Run down the yellow strip and untie the knots.

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