It is an open secret afterwards
The matter the night revealed
The ignorant knowledge I had
Of the false truth the boy had told
That dead bones walked the weary street
In the valley mount of Djebel
As his legs held on to the soil
And his hands ran in the air
He began to run from the real shadow of his head
And the day was already blind the time he came
But as sunlight smiled upon the morning
He rose from the corner of the suite that lodged him
Though, the dead men were still sleeping as the Diya
burns
Yet, the streets were shouting for a barred day
And the factories sweating at winter
The wise fool was smart to ask, why?
Only for the elders to childishly reply
With the question that answered his quest
That he knew the deaf danced to his drums
And the dumb had told him all he needed to hear at the
Wanderland
No comments:
Post a Comment