Wednesday, May 17, 2017

The Wizard.

The days go on and on.
It is like they don't stop for anything.
I can't relate to this shattered place.  The roads are paved.

I see the wizard walking-his arms are outstretched.  His magic
is like a woman's cry.  He says to me, "What do you say,"
in the most forgotten times.  The sun is rising in the west,

I see the roads ahead of me.  I am a wary traveler.  The song
is forgotten in my mind.  I do not hear.  I have not wept.
The roads are gone.  The wizard spreads his arm and flies

like the phoenix towards the sun.  A rainbow appears in the sky.
It is like the wind is sighing.  The devil's hand has left me.
I am crying in my wake.

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