Friday, July 1, 2016

Mein Irisch Kind

I would say it's a revolution
but nothing will ever change.
You say you want to give chase,
ply the seas as the seasons break
and as even as the wheel stays,
is fortune ever as fair as her name?
I watch as we all trade space,
empty and waste, empty and waste,
and one day I shall be released,
a metamorphosis for me,
a sparrow on the breeze,
an island in the sun,
is it my will to overcome?
repetition and simulacrum,
imitation of the one.

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