There is a gap wide enough,
Between what we feel, and what we show,
That a jungle lives between;
Neither hers nor mine, but somewhere new.
This country's a paradise, but
This country's a maze, where my sorrows
Stalk my joys through dark forests
Woven thickly through my reveries,
As hungry creatures - by my hand sent,
For the Gods of my forest
Covet no beauty but chaos.
This place has no maps,
Because this place is me;
And I am the blind cartographer
August 2019
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 1:58 PM UTC
There is a gap wide enough,
Between what we feel, and what we show,
That a jungle lives between;
Neither hers nor mine, but somewhere new.
This country's a paradise, but
This country's a maze, where my sorrows
Stalk my joys through dark forests
Woven thickly through my reveries,
As hungry creatures - by my hand sent,
For the Gods of my forest
Covet no beauty but chaos.
This place has no maps,
Because this place is me;
And I am the blind cartographer
August 2019
There's a lot I could say to explain this. But I won't.