Sunday, February 1, 2015

bedtime story: a eulogy of the yellow brick road

Limits are boundless, moot ideas with funeral sentences.
but the walls cave in like impending fortresses.
and i can't tell whats real anymore.

I'd like to believe the stars are on our side, breathing relief into our complicated lives.
but i'm sure we wouldn't hear them anyway, we're so close and yet push so far away.
there is no light beyond the barricade.

Since when did we stop listening, to the man behind the curtain.
he never availed us, we just failed to get acquainted.
there's hope he says still, as his voice fades off into our distance..


but it's getting late and we're all ready for death now.

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