as birds scratch the sky
so the clouds can bleed
feathers and fear
over a world in greed
we watch with our hands
soft and ready to kill
for whatever we love
or the secrets we seal
collapsed in the same
cull de sack of the mind
thoughts linger alone
in the land of the blind
we never surrender
when sick or in love
become pure and tender
in God’s fist a dove
Comentarii aleatorii