Every pain, an imagination
As unreal, as stones fell depressed
Sinking into thin waters
As unreal, as stones raced happy
Rolling upon wet slopes
Every pain, a prison
In bars of disbelief
As these legs become stones
As they then turn wings
As these hands wrinkle into leaves
As they then turn flowers
Every pain, a glue
Holding edges, of our Sun
Fuelling its burns in Orange
Unable to unglue from darkness
It refused to keep
And life, an earth
Watched in wise delight
spinning, into its days and nights
image: spinoffery.wordpress.com
Pearls From The Dark 