Well God help thy soul
you did what was wrong
unlocked the forbidden chambers
and ye shall never find thy spirit
thou lost it underneath
Now there is no such thing as an escape
Thou have been trapped
.
.
.
Look at thy mortals' sky
The stellar dust long dead
Feel the tingling of fear
the calling of the gone
Now there is no such thing as an escape
Thou have been trapped
.
.
Thy spirit is wandering like
Seagrass in the waves,
Like leaves on the cold,
colourless wind
Amongst the Sun and the Moon
The silver dust and rain
Now there is no such thing as an escape
Thou have been trapped
.
Have you ever been
Lost
Yet?
Now,
There is no such thing
As an escape
Thou
Have been
T r a p p e d
Mixing the old English word with the nowaday speech is, I believe, giving poems a special spark to it. My attempt was to create a mystic poem, giving away a post-life feeling. The point is, we don't live long, and it's time to wake up. You're here, trapped. And now there's no escape, not even death. But this piece has a special, hidden meaning behind it - if we are trapped here, why not make the most of it? [V.J.]