Early morning icicles hitching a ride on a chilled wind
....so cold
My thoughts tread-milling to the memory of a faded history of continued decay and chaos
......so old
My cards stacked with life's hate, i heard it whisper, it despises me
.....I fold
These words spinning in my head, luminescent colors cloaks the fiber of it's being, unaware of it's true power
....so bold
As we exchange the words of wisdom with our tongues entwined as one, selling my soul to you willingly
..........i'm sold
advise of old wisdom, told by the ageing pillars of all our
communities, conveyed the colorful lives lived
.......i'm told
i scribble and tear these pages, words screaming for me to release them from the cages within my mind, seeping onto these pages,
line by line
......it unfolds
this is how the artist gets to where he needs to be, word by word. Line by line