XXVII

XXVII

Thursday, November 21, 2013

διάστημα (II) Silent Hymns

The church walls are bare
And so are the pews...
Dust on the altar...
A wicked soul buried under
The ground of the churchyard there... 
Through spiral stares... 
He hears the silent hymns as no one has entered 
Or left
Through the same corridor since...

The trees are frozen
Outside the chimes ring out
Each one a different colour
Against the frail bird sky...
Some branches look like finger- 
T i p s 
Over the moon 
As the hand of virtue reaches inside
The sun... To remove all guilt- OUT
And ignite the stars at loss... 
With new desired apathy.


Through spiral stares... 
I  H e a r  T h e  S i l e n t  H y m n s . . .

As I walk outside 
Myself. 

WITH NOWHERE TO REST .

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