Sunday, January 25, 2015
Lane Of Echoes
The lady of the lane is upon the region of rising echoes,
One language is enough to labour on the echoing diet.
One quatrain is enough to relay an image of distress,
The code of priorities is to adopt and disenchant.
The lady of the life is upon our backs, fitting the cubic rates
To guide the mastering matters formally and informally,
The cube of each man is against the wall and it multiplies,
So that shapes of innocence are the lawyers of the layers.
Lazy infants fight to merge with wings so as to fly and discard,
My concerts are played by the relaters of trusted themes,
My propagators are feeding the light of a man who decides,
Lazy infants are like children of the night, children who are polite.
Topic(s) of this poem: sound