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segunda-feira, 2 de janeiro de 2012

Poem - Slithering Mind

My mind is as quiet as a dead dread lake;
With no sound of frogs nor birds;
But suddenly is as deathly as a snake;
Slithering as english words;
And wishing to fly higher than the birds.


Don't mind if my mind is as mind as the wind;
Flowing free as fire in hell;
But quite more skilful in burning than a fiend;
Flying free as fire in hell;
And wishing to be as a cursing spell.


My soul is as random as a great black hole;
Sucking matter endlessly;
It is, no matter what, as snow in north pole;
Seeing cold as ecstasy;
Feeling the world vile and contemptuously.


Don't mind if my soul is as dark as the chasm;
Igniting silence with lore;
But quite more willful in knowing than a spasm;
Filling silence with no bore;
And wishing to be from All the primal core.

Erich William von Tellerstein.