In the misty fogs of your time,
the vacuum- ocean, exhales.
And in slow motion,
unveils one of it’s many secrets:
The Island.
The Island.
The Island stops and flows
Light comes and goes
This is the island of Dust and Mirrors.
moved by your touch and of it’s quiver
Island stop and flows
Light comes and goes
But be aware of the Islands mystics
it’s heart is mirror facing your statistics
Don’t turn around and do not fear drowning
you are safe as sound, the crystals are glowing!
the water is hot but the weather is not.
Thus storms can not peel off our skin
the island keeps the storm within!!!
Storm won’t not brake out, unless you brake through
The island is the rest of you:
what remains of beauty when all lights are off
no reflection can reach the shore.
we love
we love
your light
shine shine shine
so her engine won’t decline.
(by the way, she speaks in Rhymes as a side-effect of swallowing a broken hour glass on time)
Related Blogposts
”In the life of a plant this principle shows itself most conspiciously where the green leaf is hightend into the flower. While progressing from leaf to flower the plant undergoes a decisive ebb in its vitality. Compared with the leaf, the flower is a dying organ. This dying, however, is…
I arrive. In the depth of an ocean they come closer their pearls spill on my face their neck covers me The smell I am reminded of air. I am a distortion of nature. I move around the solids. I look for cracks I sleep. …cracks to fill, but hard…