Michael Kevin Spencer > Writing | WritersCafe.org

We live, by not being We exist via negation We project ourselves Into the birth and death of everything But our hopes are attached ..

In this infinite Labyrinth of mirrors I am burned in consciousness Buried alive, against The same echoes Of repeating thoughts ..

I've won (lost) my day As a cold thing (self) that lowers Myself into the cold itself The sigh of nagging doubts Built from seaso..

Beautiful One notes a certain rush Of splendour in unfinished choice The principle of freedom Not the fact Not the rarely opened rooms..

There were specific silences Those that I entered her I saw hurt in her vulnerability By unspoken hands of the past Those were grim lives ..

Sky very blue White birds hurting the eyes With Beloved lighting Dissolving voices Of the face I once knew Streamed into impersona..

We felt little horses fleeing With age, the sun so bright outside We were lost in horizons Years passing like rare smiles You with you..

Under mysterious elegant veils I witnessed the tragedies of humankind Above the spleen of that ruined landscape The Earth, with her stran..

The sun is the country where he is That vistas of warmth, the brightest landscape To repose in heavenly arms immense Where starts cannot ..

The prologues are over, only questions Remain, the tight symbolism of our fictions In is time again to choose, how to perceive The wide r..