Writing is my Last Gold Perception

15

The Vital Word acts through me
Chiseling lyrics to shiver in language
The act of symbol to perpetuate soul

My favorite invention, my muse
Of the instinct to dance
In line or song, delay and feedback-loop

An aptitude for flight – or poetry
Here one moment, gone too soon
With swiftness as if Eternity was due

Upon the ether-street, airy lullabies
I write to oblige the accomplished Guest
To visit me like awkward cursive

Ancient tongues, soul-music standing ajar
As English, neighbored Mandarin
Songs of Earth, to light my brain with

Securest folds, enlarging loneliness
The Abyss can fall into the word.

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