A Crowded Loft

Objects are banging fiercely

Against the walls of my attic

I've filled it with sounds and scenes

That keep on rising and falling

When they surrender to manifestation

I struggle with light and dust

When they hide their trace

A bitter taste makes my throat choke

Woe to me! I'm but a foolish merchant

Who traded bliss with bright illusions

Woe to me! I'm but a reckless mason

Who raised his walls on the quicksand of fancies

Blessed is the wise man who doesn't barter

Fresh water springs with broken cisterns

Blessed I am for I've touched and seen

The root of mercy washing dusk with dawn

Reviews

[stars are far]

That's a very beautiful poem, you nicely penned it :)
well done