Wednesday, 26 August 2015

The Fold

I Can Not See My Eyes,
I Climb InTo The Mirror And Through It,
Through Where My Eyes Would Be,
And NoThing Is Stareing Back At Me.
A Face And A Mask Is What Am I Now,
Drawn To Reflect And So I Turn,
InTo The Edges And A Weakening Hold,
Players And Smoke To Mind And Mold,
These Ages Furrowed For Rocks To Throw,
I Ready MySelf And Aim For Thrice,
For The Shadow Of What I Am To What I Will,
Until Beyond The Fold To What I Fill...
Never The Earth To Hold My Ground,
Never In Sleep Could Peace Be Found,
ForEver I Be Simple For Words To See,
And NoThing Bleeding Back To Me.

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