Monday, September 20, 2010

I Am The Morning’s Orphan




I Am The Morning’s Orphan


The Night Hug Me To The Vigil’s Refuge


Washed His Face By My Writing


And Eyelined My Eyes With His Kohl



Combed His Hair By My Pen


Laid On My Copybook As Bed


Slept On And


My Lines As Tired Weary Breasts



Ragged From The Harvest’s Years


My Heart Is Ashtray For Smoke Secrets


And My Evenings Are Expanding


While My Morn Is Dumb



My Words Are Lighting As Light


And Mirror On The Brazen Roofs


The Vagrant Wind Is Begging


Close To My Window



Suddenly My Eyes Shaken


Then, I Sat Under The Stars Shine


After That I Thought About Flying


I Made Wings From Water



And I Soared


But The Night’s Beloved


Freeze My Blurred Wings


I Loved Her Pride



And I Failed In Love With Her


Then, My Songs Altered


And I Became A Night’s Foe


I Knew That I Couldn’t Fly And


But, I Can Sung




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