The whole world, masked,
For this phantom lust –
Of Mother Nature gone wild 
Devouring her own cubs. 

Still…
Stand still.
Don’t move an inch,
Passed that window sill.

Stand.
Still. 
Hush.
Don’t breathe –
Man’s fate 
Hanging there 
Like a beggar 
Passed the gates,
Of that ledge, 
Past the window’s 
Flowery bed, 
And forward 
Into that past,
Yet to be shed – 
At last. 

Yes. 
Stand still. 
Stand there. 
Don’t think, 
Don’t seek,
Don’t dream,
– of yesterdays.
Don’t gleam, on 
Love’s passed parades, 
Those past lives,
Those past falters 
In your eyes. 

Still. 
Stand. 
Still.

And there –
Amid the overcrowded 
Panic and fits, 
By one and all, 
Finally, see –
The tricks, 
Finally, hear –
Your own voice, 
Echoing passed all 
In full dying force,
And muted tone,
Of what it wants,
What it seeks,
And what it thinks –
As being meek. 

Finally, be,
Passed 
All the magic – 
Of past, 
Present, 
And future state,
Now, see them, simply –
Playing, 
Shuffling, 
In a constant,
Irreverent, 
Rate.

What now? 
What sorts? 
What faults? 
What next? 
What fucking night sweats… 

What all, to all 
The answers
And questions,
That have yet to rise 
From all this…
What awe? 

Stand still no more
Breathe 
Feel 
Scream
See 
Dream 
Love,
For 
You know –
The answers 
To all the questions 
No more. 
For the beauty –
Of this no madding crowd – 
Lies in that 
All, now, has the value
– Of none. 

So stand still 
No more, 
But Run!