Blind Mind, Avoid
Let the sun blinds the blind man
And carriages with the wind
The hidden path, the unholy rises
While that Eagle is wandering by.
Let the moon while I scope
To watch the mourning birds create
The pounding on the fall stone
The weight I dance.
Let the plum buffalo comes to me
In dream, in smoke, in stars and rain, I don't care
As a great man to be and said:
"Welcome, my skinny bone,
And show me where is the way I shall dehorn.
Because I don't want leave any trace behind!
Copyright © George Zamalea | Year Posted 2013
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