And Then It Passes…

verses born in my head are vaporised on the spot… the poem is dead before it sees the light, while the poet himself is put to sleep, crystallized for later use…

February 25th 2008

verses are no longer born in this infertile mind, the poem is long since dead, and the light itself has faded since the loss of its source… guardians of the sleeping poet are gone for good, for now he’s forever doomed to sleep, forever doomed to freeze in this lifeless desert… until a new ray of a new day of a new Sun breaks through the glass of the stasis cell, and brings the light back to the eyes of The Blind…

4 years and 13 more days to sleep… Wake me up when it’s over…

15:38
Thursday, February 12th, 2009

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~ by H.Q. on 12 February 2009.

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