My strength goes up and down, but underneath
The surface pales behind the sharpened goal,
And what I’ve done to see this field of heath
Is nothing but a light wave for my soul.
Instead of being wealthy I crave more
To add all voices in a hole of things,
Which I, myself, shall dig through to explore
Along with skies of angels without wings.
My grief is just the chance to be alive
In poverty of Universe and times,
But stay with me and calmly learn to hive
The cloak of silence from those helpless rhymes.
My throat is now guitar with thousand strings
Enforcing pain to humble ‘till it sings.



11.06.2008