The bard stares right at you and lifts his pen in your direction, and says you are failing to comprehend, but that is over and ended. Then the curtain rises and birds descend. As artists we stand alone against a world, and hold our own, and the world spins in our hand. Loves begin to unfold as the rains spills from the heavens. The crystal ball explodes and there is nothing at all.

No comments:

Post a Comment