Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Joliloquy
In the thin air of cold one drifts to sleep,
Only to be forcefully shaken.
For there shall be none until it thickens.
Weakness is but the mind's blemish.
Fashioned from dust but no fault it shall lay claim to.
While d' astute 'evil feigns goodness,
For a costume of things dark and vile.
But does the finger erect too quickly?
The familiar mockery, derision, contempt.
Hypocrisy kills more than the cat.
The self scoots away into the popular fallacy,
Joined by spinning spirits of a fanciful mime.
The fall is eternal;
The agony deathless.
Yet death steals the dream which now lies barren.
Witnesses speak of
tiqva,
But where has it gone?
For cover, retreated into the hollows.
Vowed never to return again.
For it trembles at the sight of light,
Relives the dawn of day that never breaks.
Four months to.
The audacity and vigour must be revealed.
Awake from a profound slumber!
It is a question of choice or ......
Posted by Jo at 10:43 PM
