Dry stream of consciousnessA Poem by M.KilaniUnspoken words and stories told Of men, freedom, love and god Where they don’t know what lies ahead When the sun is down and the moon is dead
They don’t know this troubled mind Where the truth you don’t seek is what you find Hell hound and a leopard And a story of a snake Land of holy he forsake Into the cold autumn sun
As the lion is trapped in the cage No man saw the last butterfly All those words that emerge Means nothing more than a lie
Night of cold, night is old And no remorse for what I’ve done All I hold can be sold All for warmth of sun
Cry cry friend of my Cry for what you have seen May tomorrow never die May you see what I have been
I walk alone, you walk alone Yet together both we stand As I wait tomorrow’s dawn As you count them grains of sand
The muse has changed, changed the dance The man is chaired, he’s at his place Wheeled he is, still has his grace To walk this earth does he have a chance
History, mystery, endless loss of time All this graceful victory can’t be told by mime Consciousness stream is dry And a sparrow tries to fly
Last call for fall as we await for rain Thoughts and feeling stall in search for a new fate What change is yet to come What new kind of love and pain We all breathe in vain
Smoke more than you breathe Let it madness fade away World was never a place for you Claim it back, your dismay
Gentleman, mental man What have you done Please them all if you can No place for you under sun
You ask for peace by leading a war There are things that are clear There are things that are unknown And in between there’s a half opened door
Your homelessness and sickness Is that what you sell Forgive my words; but among this mess You are mentally ill
Strive against it river Why can’t you swim along the stream As you search home in wilderness They dry your stream of consciousness © 2012 M.KilaniAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on November 8, 2012 Last Updated on November 8, 2012 Author
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