On the Way to the Middle

May 12, 2010
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It's midnight
The stars paint the solemn sky
Not even comparable
To a man with fingers of light
Children walk outside
Leaning towards the edge of the rye
Not even the miserable
Can ignore the wind's swift tide

It's midnight
The grass
So moist in its mass
Is the only bit of earth
That's keeping you by the hearth
Daring to tilt your head
Your mind wanders off to bed
And you dream
Amidst the scheme

It's midnight
Close your eyes and hear the fear
Seeping into your innocent skin
Barely seclude into your shell
Before your legs quickly find shelter
Hide from the shrill noises
And the scowls of the brave
Be one apart from
The willing friend of the dark

It's midnight
Walk beyond the man-drenched path
Cut your own way through the wilderness
Let the dim light of the moon
Be your only guide on the journey
Seek what you wish to find

It's midnight
Good morning





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