The Third Bowl
I've a crystal bowl gifted to me by a devil.
Long before I was born, or so they tell me.
It overflows with gems and other shiny things.
Things that seduce sanity.
They come and go as they please.
In life, there should be fewer of these things.
I have another bowl made of earth and stone.
Gifted to me by an angel.
Long before I was born, or so they tell me.
On the bottom, a single pebble of sanity.
Amidst feathers and minted leaves.
I pray it'll stay for eternity.
In life there should be more of these.
There's a third bowl in my mist
filled with unknown things.
A gift from anonymous Gods?
I'm unsure of what to think
a bowl of bitter... a bowl of sweet...
a bowl of unknown things
in the dusty cupboards of parquet dreams
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