Jun 2012
A shadow rises like a cloud
On the horizons of my consciousness and
Charts a course in whispers…
Although I hack my track alive
I seldom weep,
As captive tears held back
One thousand times
I bid them shower over you.
For this is neither love
Nor hate
Or any such extreme
But approximately friendship
The valley in between that tempts
Each others' graves like mountain flowers.
On the horizons of my consciousness and
Charts a course in whispers…
Although I hack my track alive
I seldom weep,
As captive tears held back
One thousand times
I bid them shower over you.
For this is neither love
Nor hate
Or any such extreme
But approximately friendship
The valley in between that tempts
Each others' graves like mountain flowers.
This poem does not belong to me. It was dictated to me by a nameless man on the side of the street who seemed to pluck it from thin air. He asked me to publish it and claim it as my own. I do not claim to have written it, but I will share the words as they still give me shivers.
