Deep beneath

the edging of consciousness


flashes of passion

Fleetingly baring

their wondrous heads

in haunting music

in mountains’ splendid embrace

in words of poetry

that allude to the depth;

Artfully chosen

they can draw the curtain

just for a moment

and you are left

with the gasp of rapture

warm on your lips.

Passion so hidden

goes numb

in the blankness of constant noise

endless screens

the next excitement

screaming for your attention

It is only in the days of fidgety silence

that your senses are sanded down

so that their form is once more visible

in the polished marble

and they can be

what they were supposed to be

even tainted with the world’s sadness

they can hear the fiery song

the Ultimate muse

wooing his creation

back under his wings.


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