My hands turn weary with fingers weak,as the fruit of knowledge I hold
in my palm grows bright and heavy,
It's vibrations reach far and wide,
reverberating inside my heart,
I hear my thoughts palpitate ,
their velocity on par with that of light,
crossing over from worlds real to imagined!

My words haemorrhage and gasp
for breath, but my tears flow like fuel,
Emotions, those finicky charlatans,
flood my being then leave me high and dry like the Zephyr in a desert doomed!

I wait for the choir to call upon me
singing a song of wistful bliss, but it never comes,neither does...