by Modar Monther
seeing nothing . . . but faithfully moving toward
toward the light , toward above
silence weeping
slowly climbing . . .to the edge of evermore
where a god lies beneath the blue stone
beneath the blue stone
as we rise upon the day , upon the night , upon the time behind
to see the fall ,to see at all ,the ruins may say the words and cry
for a god we seek , for a king to speak , the waste land gives the void a shine
in the deep , we fall asleep
we live to give we give to die . . . . .
Last updated November 27, 2013