poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

So graceful So graceful The ancient legions of ringed, barked creatures at the edge of precipice stand guards of reunion eternal. A million leafs the shivering fingers of a myriad forks palms outstretched towards fatherly warmth cupped, the freshness of a million morning dews to hold. So still So still Buried deep below ground held by mother and of her breast fed in intimacies unknown but to the father Hold me with you legions! to live forever in your silence at the edge of perdition safe in the sanctity of your forested temples Hold me with you the cold winds through my heart to sweep of rivers dark to drink the thirst of a million desires to quench, a tormented, restless soul to quiesce So graceful So graceful Under thick covers of snow you must have seemed to Goth and Roman as you do to me now Mysterious and dark impenetrable threateningly still 28-III-04
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
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