From
- the stereotypical, bit hypocritical critically flawed frames of mind:
Unwind - and find yourself, awake and young, in a place you'd left behind;
And several wings, and other great things, rise up and warm your soul.
Again we find ourselves... in our homes.
Gone, and gone, and suddenly rippling down.
You see, we're somewhat closer to - finally being
- found.
And rivers of hatred and joyfulness, sated, are pushing me over my grave.
The ferries of heaven are coming and going and there's little remaining to save.
The spirit of the nomad, locked in flesh
Must now and then compel itself: confess -
To all of the horrible, terribly sensible
Things it has done to its mind, and in time,
It will find itself better, confined to a letter
Or hundreds thereof on a page.
Herein lies a broken age.
The walls! of reason, and of sight
Are swiftly falling, calling them a blight
In the papers! And the stories our fathers told us, when
- we were young, we were new, we were true;
The rhyme's unfolding...
Yes, we knew.
Negative Spaces
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