In Between the Strophes

I'll never be a king of the brave

The vain poet - I lied, forgive me if you care
I went calmly through all the stages of madness
The last it's the tongue on a stranger face

And believe that man can turn in to a bird
To look at people and things
Without the need of rising the gaze

What a disruptive and ugly input
- Acquired romanticism
To have eyes placed on occiput

And after all, to see against the stiff neck
How veils of the wild cranes are waving
Across the sunset fires and dense shades

I'll never be a king of the brave

Timorous rhymer - I laughed, who cares
That I went through all the stages of foolishness
The last it's the thought that anyone chased

Man, dog or a worm
Will find an asylum
Somewhere in between the strophes

Copyright ©: Marcin Malek

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