Around my head are all the words that ever been said—
and it’s not an oasis. More of a sinkhole.
I feel as if the more you know the more it’s a gravity well—
the light bends toward me but never lands.
And since it’s all impressions and fading visions—
well, my heart’s never made the decision.
It swirls around me and I am the eye,
but the calm is more indifference than respite.
In the end, while I’m laying there…
God will wash me of my consciousness.
No comments:
Post a Comment