PUTRA

Sitting by your open window -
A dull breeze flicking the curtain,
The morning sun a broken thing
without beauty...
Trapped behind a concrete slab
of 21st century living...
And what does it take -
what does it take
to make it through the day
This pale day
Violent in its lovelessness
Broken before it has had a chance
to shade the scorched grasslands
of a future without solace?
Like Icarus - But without ecstasy,
It knows well and truely
that happiness
DOES NOT
CANNOT
AND NEVER WILL
ever be able to spread out its wings
like a tired moth -
sick of the moon
An Aeon before the power had its power
and so to the paleness - to the distance.

7.6.11
332