[288] The Untitled Poem

Running so fast
I’m still as the wind
caught in a storm
which forgets all life
and the morality of it all
till destruction tears it down
A sleepy little town
The angel with the horns
and an interrupted wail
I’ve forgotten any beginning
I don’t remember any now

The breaking of bones
is so akin to a nervous breakdown
Falling into the sky
fallen into a comedy of errors
which reveals wisdom in the
form of a golden flood of tears
I don’t think I have any answers
I don’t think I have any semblance
Just an unbroken breaking of a mind
which tries to grasp an extinct respite

I am the flame before you blow
I am the fire before the rain
I am the dream before you wake
I am dust that lost its way

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