A Voice

A razor, slicing unto my fragile skin
Wrists, Exsanguinating my joy
Of Occam’s delight and Karmic response to my demonopolisation

Under a Villmark dank fetid sky
My stationary sight, crippled by the taste of illusion
My utopia banished as quick as the leaf falling in Autumn stark
Carpe Diem, because no other will

fra tårnet fjellet tronen, I look, wonder, alone, prone and weak,
en stemme skriker!

Ian V. Seymour ©2010

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s