Monday, 5. April 2004
Self Talk -1
Inside of me lies
A desert, a thirst
An echo of vanished forests.
The secret remains Unseen, a layer of rock Covers the waters.
Their flowing sound I have only heard Lately within.
Now there is work To do, for hands To break through the bones
Of brittle desire, the cage Which imprisons a nightingale Holding the green oasis of song.
My Poems
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