In a pale light the sense is made alike,
W/in a lucid trance between time and being
The world is halted,
and the psyche is free to roam its unprecedented, formless
Labyrinth of secrets and of
questions,
Answers are sparse,
But the ambition of men
Tearing monstrously at the
delicacy of these phantom
quantities
is what keeps the answers hidden,
And lingering in a patient limbo
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
In a pale light the sense is made alike,
W/in a lucid trance between time and being
The world is halted,
and the psyche is free to roam its unprecedented, formless
Labyrinth of secrets and of
questions,
Answers are sparse,
But the ambition of men
Tearing monstrously at the
delicacy of these phantom
quantities
is what keeps the answers hidden,
And lingering in a patient limbo
Request permission to use this poem