Gabriell Riley


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Nothing to Be Done

What can be done when metaphors fly on the wings of birds
Like fairies as they glide through the winter winds
On wing and prey and flame of night air
To distant places that are touched by silver moonlight
Nothing can be said to those who sing of adventure or romance in prose
To bohemians that sit and discuss logic of politics
or debate the science of magic
These wizard like men of wrinkled forehead and tired chin
None can be seen through the veil that clouds judgement

[Hata Bildir]