Sunday 25 March 2012

What place is this?...

What place is this?

A silent echo, the roar of thunder...

The blinding light, a veil of crushing dark...
A history of emptiness,
So full of space.
Did once the sun and moon both rise,
'twere ever so.

Lift up my face,
Sweet odour of roses, jasmine, honeysuckle,
Heavy, towering and sickly,
Press me down, run me over.

A heat at once, intense and searing,
Chilling, burning,
Freezing,
Drying,
Not comfort,
But ultimately suffering.

Noise of wind,
Ever sighing, Forever roaring,
Breath of life soft,
Destruction in its spin,
Both but all at once.

You feel alive but,
Dead,
Feel pain,
Experience no sensations,
Touch life and hold dreams but
Let things slip things though your
Fingers.

What place is this?


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