madness masquerades
as mornings that come
and go
and dancing madly backwards
Pan plays his lute
down desolate streets
disappearing into the raging sun
of all possibilities.
the sad mornings that come and go, and
all possibilities considered
far from the haunted clocks
and cracking glass
margins shout
where walls never meet
in forgotten stillness.
so dance on silent ledges,
walk the high wire,
jump into the fire,
welcome madness passionately.
do something completely unexpected.
enjoy the imperfections,
kiss a stranger,
laugh when you should be crying,
madness is magic,
so strip down
naked as the wolf in the forest,
logic be ******
howl along with the howling wind.
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 9:57 PM UTC
madness masquerades
as mornings that come
and go
and dancing madly backwards
Pan plays his lute
down desolate streets
disappearing into the raging sun
of all possibilities.
the sad mornings that come and go, and
all possibilities considered
far from the haunted clocks
and cracking glass
margins shout
where walls never meet
in forgotten stillness.
so dance on silent ledges,
walk the high wire,
jump into the fire,
welcome madness passionately.
do something completely unexpected.
enjoy the imperfections,
kiss a stranger,
laugh when you should be crying,
madness is magic,
so strip down
naked as the wolf in the forest,
logic be ******
howl along with the howling wind.
