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!