I sit upon my chair and think of life
It feels this stage is set right on a knife
To left, a choice to fall into the clay
Into machines, they grind and knead away
To right, the darkness eats at time itself
Room flips, and values fall from off your shelf
Just kiss the knife with toes one at a time
Breath slow, the edge, I pray, will grow, to feel
Sublime
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
I sit upon my chair and think of life
It feels this stage is set right on a knife
To left, a choice to fall into the clay
Into machines, they grind and knead away
To right, the darkness eats at time itself
Room flips, and values fall from off your shelf
Just kiss the knife with toes one at a time
Breath slow, the edge, I pray, will grow, to feel
Sublime
insanity waits for those who fall
