Thursday, 8 November 2012

Sift

Papers in my mind move me to exhaustion
Oh how they dash
Circular in their arrival
Fleeting in their definition

This palace of circled eyes is where I reside
For spells words is all I have
A lost soldier of thought
Am I on these period passages

A timeless feel to the dated
As I march toward conclusion
Reality my rifle
Breath my saber

Ordering it all with librarian tenacity
Till I swallow time
Releasing my ticker
From self imposed rapture.

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