An old tree is
Embracing the soil
Embracing the sky
Without a will
Simply, to thrive
Just as easily
To die
Rid of evening chants
Lacking logic, lacking time
Each thread
Integrates
Thoughtlessly
But we
With ladders of misery
With counts and scales
And endless isolation machines
Our soil is dust
And fabled peace
Lies dormant
Rust creeps over
Our ploughs and tractors...
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 2:26 PM UTC
An old tree is
Embracing the soil
Embracing the sky
Without a will
Simply, to thrive
Just as easily
To die
Rid of evening chants
Lacking logic, lacking time
Each thread
Integrates
Thoughtlessly
But we
With ladders of misery
With counts and scales
And endless isolation machines
Our soil is dust
And fabled peace
Lies dormant
Rust creeps over
Our ploughs and tractors...
