Questions are the answers
and answers are the questions.
They never die.
The words collect the dripping wounds.
Memories emigrate to wasteland
and the city drowns in a lake.
Our infallible pride has no challenge
trust the precarious teeth.
Beyond eloquence life drifts
from unknown to unknown.
A fruitless search in a grey winter
of thinking trees.
Tall, beautiful,
but faith has taken a U–turn.
The span of obscurity reflects
a twisted wisdom
burning the books of tomorrow.
The fear, depression and brutal game
of corruptible views
I deal with a non-story
of cultivated meditation.
The duality of hate and love,
bread and hunger.
I stand on a quicksand
to balance the beach and find the missing links.
