Day Twenty-Six (late): Writing a curtal sonnet, like this one.
We hear it through the walls, so dry and thin,
The universe expanding from within.
Until the day it drags us from this place,
We'll stay and warm the air that is our space -
To understand the power of our thoughts
It holds us in and ties us up in knots.
Although we're forced to stare, to know, to see,
So little makes it through - our minds, they flee.
And often do we hold the softest things
While, slyly, they betray us, tie our strings,
Keep us contained.
_________________________________________________
Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Parov Stelar, Catgroove
No comments:
Post a Comment