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The lunatic is on grass

February 2, 2012

I Politick

There were lights and sounds and unknown mysteries.
Faces were replaceable
And they were replaced often.
Voices were condensed
Muffled to maintain the calm

There was a rugged jar
Which kept all the faces of the world.
And there were oceans around the universe
Which submerged every noise

For these were the penchants of our Master:
A 1000 Concealing Faces
Silence

Brown Eyes

Thoughts churned in his mind.
He was looking patiently
In her eyes,
When her lips gently ushered
The words of an Ancient Poet.

"How were the odds",
He wondered.
As the wind brushed through her auburn hair,
"To stand here,
by a shimmering yellow light.
Falling from a sky so nigh
In a dark alley,
With her. And her eyes."