The Roam of Plains Thought
I wonder how do ship float upon the sea
Is it the friction with the salty water?
Or its the way the nature flows?
Can I lay without sinking?
Could you held me without thinking?
Are the friction work with my soul?
Or its the way his creation written?
May I feel the crossing line
Even if its in the midst of the traffic?
May the crowd and the yell gone
Even if my soul need them like an air?
How to touch your fingers through the cloud?
How to do all of the free fall in the Kilimanjaro sky?
Are the skyline look heavenly in the dusk?
And does the cold heavy air break your breath?
Are all or this asking mean a thing
If my hand are still cover by the phone?
Will he going to the heaven if
He stop loving me and saying the goodbye
Cause he will begun to shink unto his dusty
Canopi bed like a fallen old germany building
The bed will be elated to be wash
Only if the body is attached with its garment
Does this old men are really my dad sun
Next to his passed moon?
Does this old silk men will bestowed me
Only with sorrow and grief
A grief that so grey that only seing one's born is the solem path to gain other color
But a fooll on its own head if he not thought
Of getting in touch with the shallow sea and the blue sky ceiling
The line will once again bow to his new lord
And suddenly disappeared
Only to gave the unmarked blank plains
Eagerly for me to roam with freedom
Copyright © Biru Nalik | Year Posted 2023
|