And now I'm strung back
Into the double dilemma.
The unending
Möbius strip of reasons,
The tangled mess of
Ifs,
Buts,
And Maybes.
To be or not to be?
That is
The Question.
To be treated as the
Most important one in the world.
This puny question overwrites
All other attempts to
Calm down
And decipher this crypt.
Tarry!
Is it really so?
Once the hedge parts,
And the fox hunted,
The question is no longer
The same one as before.
Admire
The black birds by the
fountain, the grey
Pavement blocks, the lovely dark
Eyes of the night.
Once, the mindcrypt was
My moon. Now,
It's merely the caressing
Wind, of the
Globe;
Whispering in my ear,
A soft
Goodbye.
