(a bit under the weather of late)


For Words?


When one looks into an invisible world 
Seeing much too much for far too long,

Questions larger than mountains ranging to the skies
Years scattering random scenes in glassy indexes of dream,

Rise up on a cold morning lift curtains with open eyes
There are legions on the move before the window let in light,

Cast off an inevitable cloak of gravity is at an end
Bending back upon itself to close one empty door,

Loose all frames become the self you always knew
Was there ever an answer small enough for words?





Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 516 times
Written on 2013-02-25 at 18:35

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