With eye’s unyet accustomed
I walk into the darkness
Me and my moon
We watch the paths
And keep the lanterns lit
So, along the way, the shades of gray
Won’t lash out at you
Thrash about with you
With leg’s unyet weary
We step onto the stones
Me and my tomtom
We are the back-beat tempo
That makes the toe tapping, slightly
An odd rolling rhythm in the trees that sway
Bring no harm to you
Call alarm to you
With a heart unyet broken
A story waits to unfold
Me and the poets
Send out songs to you
Words littered in uneven piles, stacking
Meanings with substance on purposeless flights
Beg tokens from you
Masquerade for you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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