My OperaA section of time
Sunday, January 7, 2007 5:01:13 PM
Noises see through me
Bravery bespeaks me
My shadows fear me
As I misread my lines
I compose to outer expose
What makes me kind, our kind?
Or The truth in the deepest that I should find…
Feel what surrounds,
Feel what makes, use clarity and clamour
For a fist in fury
To judge to kill to behead, as I speak in fury
Of the furnace that cooks the spot
A dreaded disaster that a breath beholds
The life the death, the more we want, the less we’ll know,
Of the kingdom of the right an the right to glow
It takes more than a merry go round
To dream of the passing times
More than a spell in mind, to age in the mist,
Horse powers, mythological hours,
Combat liars, untrusted friars.
If you lose more time in Frozen rage
You speak no lines of the chosen sage
So do it, so be it.
