Established landmarks removed test the fates— Burning wind in a vacant sky. Rearranged cosmic hemispheres of mind— Oracle of day not seen with naked eye.
The need for warmth a thing of the past— Frigid waters the basis of new-fangled cell. Tortured derelicts kept from the naked eye— Oracle of night hangs in day’s empty shell.
Dubious means to generate a sun of artificial light— But a fling cannot replace a love that is shunned. Yet warm rays of sunlight still flow above the temporal— Still hanging in defiance of the 60 cycle hum.
Regain your bearings oh heart of true light— Everything in its place: oracle of day and oracle of night.
My world has come crashing down on top of me like the Eastern front of Belarus where the Nazis took so much where they massacred my family
I've worked so hard all these years just for fate to decide that I'm unworthy of any type of love or safety I am now being burned inside my own home I can hear laughing outside
My family always told me how scared they were that I would be alone in this world that they would never see me happy
"The being in constant astonishment in other worlds - words, dies. Starves from too much food." TOO MUCH ASTONISHMENT.
such astonishment to be unlearned in the meeting of two friends on a bench, the opening of curtains to a blue-gold sky the sheer pleasure of creating a world - (word?) - and a person and a FEELING from a black-inked nib and a white scratched page
THIS IS THE FATE OF THE WATCHER trapped alone in astonishment, a seer Cassandra of ordinary happenings.
look at the living that is being LIVED! - and never believed.
