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Wednesday, 7 January 2009

Escapism take II

I keep turning around, looking,
Fearing that lightning may strike
On my shoulder. Hiding in shades
Make faint presence, only suspicions
Enveloped in what is unfathomable.
Like circling an unlit room.
Toe tracing the floor for weighty reasons,
To bare the past and question about changed
That became unreasonable, unfamiliar.
Brood over all my lost times borrowed,
I am going back to Gondal, watch me fail.
Idling refuge, watch me fail.