Westerly Far Birds
Let us take you up then
Where litanies of darkness mount the sun
Rest us on the magic night, bleakest evil oars
Arid pair of sleepy rebels float, limbs and root
Pretending what we are, reversed dreams of fields
Open as the window that is life, or so it seems
Hear the whish of mindful trees and zombie bark
Let us take you down, in dionysian diction
Where reality fluffs it’s cranberry tendrils
Where “real” is just a latin undulation of noise
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