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.]