not just any poem
nor merely for any soul
the greatest of All poems
not for its prose
not for it's wording
not for it's ability to transcend
but just for it's being
and the simple pleasures it represents
weary daydreams
fathoming oblivion
where can it take us
what answers begot
so many examples
of statements unheard
wishes and hexes
are the Gods listening?
if not, then it's just you and me.
nowhere else are these words more clearer
than in the mind of my muse
where moths catch flame
and spiders nest
where beauty lies still
beyond the coldness
beyond what's been saved
from the root of the atom
where soft smoke permeates
and the truth lies skinned and bare.
