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…obduracy of thoughts in a maelstrom
of ancient ash is hidden, ….
within impasse of that dark lake.
Vulnerable are we who preserved it,
thieved the fractions of eternity
so to flood them in abysm…
Out of depth anechoic thoughts searching for space…
In labyrinthine laughter and sorrow,
sobs of the Universe as trekker,
are heavily neighbouring
and washing of the reminiscence.
Thoughts slowly rending their petals
enfolded by my skin.
We are impelled trough bulked eiderdown
of some stone wing bird.
Incubated, …. just about to take a first breath
that gust turns it into fire.
Ash is falling in my eyes
and parches the ink that penned these thoughts.
angel saviour
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