“The poet is cursed,
Consumed,
by visions of hidden beauty,
Invisible truths pervasively,
obscured to unseeking eyes;
Surrounding and,
suffocating,
The secrets silence,
all thoughts
But of God’s furtive facts”
Enthrall me, erase me,
From the forever of
Yesterday and the yet to be.
Free me from my freedom,
The plague of the possible,
Condemn me to your certainty,
Though fleeting and fading,
Waves of windy wisdom fill my soul,
So to speak,
softly but soundly enough,
To teach all those,
damned lucky souls,
The difference dividing,
doom and destiny.
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