When the muse dies (or when the soul wanders off), by mcbrams Subscribe to rss feed for mcbrams

The rough desert sands blind us, 
Pierce into our eyes and render us sightless. 

In this wilderness 
The stark barrenness of hopeless is tangible, 
As the hurt of broken dreams becomes truth 
Like the tears that result when the 
Laboured toil result to nothingness 

Or like the eternal pursuit of the rainbow’s end 

Or like a boat that sails on sea without captain 

Or a soul escaped from the body of a madman. 

The rough desert sands blind us, 
Pierces into our eyes and renders us sightless. 

And drive us to darkness 
Where, in the hollow asylum 
We grapple with the truth, 
Searching for the lamp 

And the voice of reason haunts us. And mocks us 
Posted: 2010-01-19 06:28:25 UTC

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