How it rests
Pondering in its intensity
The tenseness of its strings
And the lack within its body
Reverberating, singing, crying
Such beauty or dissonance
Ready to be spoken
By its corpse - oaken
With aliveness seldom seen
But much sought after
Stone stillness
Vibrant laughter

Money
So they say
Will make you still
Wil make you stay

Money
Will make you scream
Sour watch fiend
Will make you dream

Money
Will give you some
Of all and of the void
Until you have it all, then its done

Such that I wish one day
I could wordly say
And shoot
A micelle arrow of celestial connotation
And penetrate the deppest of sky’s blue
Shedding light upon
A dawn over the horizon
Setting a miserly word upon the sayings
About the future’s unbeholden prayers
And arrow’s seething slayers

It rushes
So fast
Yet
It never tumbles

It never fails to rob me
Of the present
As I try to flee
And yet I arrive in the gone

Moment - by moment
I remember in my entirety
All that was
And shall never

Be - long is the road
To forget
What a flower smile meant
All the time gone - but never spent

Written words forever down in the ink
Here for eternity
Vanishing when you blink

Stone and marble words still
Timeless beyond
Fleeing concepts so real

Changed -
In what now is new
But somehow was always this
The same
Changed-

Only if by a name

The Sun shivers in cold
And portrays an even colder light

The Moon sweats in heat upon the dark blue
And makes a rain fall into a Moon river

The stillness of shadows in the apologetic Sun
The cold howls of the rain from the sorrowful Moon
Isn’t it to soon in the cycles of the year?
Shouldn’t the purity of these Two be clear?