Saturday, June 4, 2016


As bells falling
I hear it in the wind
In dreams of calling
where I can come again

as the heart of this furnace
if there was any way
In this land of make-believe
In the dream of the day

where chains are calling
In the gravel, on concrete
my depths remain so shallow
and I taste it in the heat

I argue for the justice
and I change with my gaze
and I've become lost
As a mouse, within a maze

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