Old Fathers Pause
A ship of souls lost
concealing an ocean.
in space between thoughts
the speed of slow motion.
please hear the sound
of the visibly shaken.
a thief wears the crown
the builder is breaking.
just a handful of souls
of windows and walls.
in the shimmering hour
of old father's pause.
while guardians of being
are too busy sleeping.
a listening tree seems
the last willow weeping.
we are the terrorist
and the laughing child.
it's our mirrored bliss
but, your crafty smile.
as my skeleton moans
he must sell his skin.
and paint all his bones
with some charlatan.
mind over matter?
well i think not!
if there's something the matter
with the one I've got.
but, i choose to believe
my spirit transcends.
it's too hard to conceive
this is where it ends.
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