Tidings of the Psyche


Why to be the Crusoe’s ship
Yearning for the shore
But the whirlpool
Yes, in it’s very swirling
Drown and dance
Rise again and shine
They write on the shore
Let’s write on the waves
Shark’s teeth be your pen
And the sucked blood be your ink
Write the silences of the seas
Play their noise
Serve the unfed ears
With nothing but truths
Burn with passion
Burn and let your embers scatter
Scatter the water apart
Widen your narrow lane
Make a procession of the many in you
Walk in communion
A minstrel unmarring
The delight of the sky

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