The Eye of Night
The eye of night,
watches,
blinks
behind creases
of clouds
across the ragged
winter dawn
of sky,
and through
the standing trees
they that scrape
and tear,
rattling the truth
at the empty wind,
uselessly hanging,
blindly gesturing,
through invisible branches,
guessing which way
the beacons
of light
will slowly turn,
and above the lines
and folds,
the geometric castles,
the battlements
of politics
and power,
the million stories,
the shooting of lives
of unknown stars,
they that fall
and rise,
fall and rise,
in waves
of doubt
trust
the trespassing
lies
of media truth,
the eye
of night closes,
if we are not careful,
if we are not careful,
for good.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
