15
Apr
15

#38

The waves of colour

submerge me and I drown

with joy

revelling in silvery-gold downpour.

The music ecstatically

swirls intricate blue sources of radiance;

craving the high

I yearn for the ride.

But, the clouds make

shapes that I no longer recognize;

the wind

does not sing either.

Paralysed I travel

on the long black dark road

that slithers

towards a glittering grey horizon.

Under the shadowy gaze

of silent stars we ululate in unison

and clash;

The struggle is futile.

Only the picture is

smudged


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