The Canopy
the canopy of comfort caravan of curruption
leads to a path of no return a road of self-destruction
in this crowded cafeteria no creature has a table to itself
and in this darkened forrest of death the canvass that shutters out the light is its shelf
your soul is like a forrest without a summer
and the beat that you hear has no drummer
your ignorance is as vivid as abstract thoughts not yet seen
and the desires that you seek are nothing more than mere illusions conveyed by dreams
Copyright © John Castro | Year Posted 2011
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