Song of the white hearts pumps through veins
Taking swords of words in a silent revolution (of sorts)
and step back to admire the art work
Morning light casts a light like no other
Like they say, it's always darkest before the dawn
I hear the million voices, howling in my ears
and ever silent, we sleep to shut them out
and hope that somewhere in all the universes
there is a place where they are muted,
we rest, and we reside in lemon yoghurt pots
Hot eucalyptus gushes around the night,
waterfall of tears, splashes without a sound
you can't live with the world on your shoulders
someone said long ago, I'm still climbing onto the world's shoulders,
just to let you know.
(9th May 2013)
