Mortal and Pester
the tiny penumbra that forms on the dotted ia wink, a sun, a pool, a ray of manta light
all these and more obscure the crescendo
when wind and bells peal through your heart
strips you of
emotion
well you have become a god now
a lonely number embedded in the singular eye
a sink, a pun, a new way of taking flight
less the sum, the sun was warm, when still i
ran polluted through chasms to an open bay
well you have become a god now
in case of hope
panic
Poetry by Charlie fan
Read 978 times
Written on 2009-03-30 at 07:40
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