I learn, things

that are known-

perhaps too well-

by others,

turning the gears of

progress

- for what?

One by one

we replace those

who perish -

and slowly

we turn

the same gears-

new to the blind

but old to the eyes

that can see,

rhythm unbroken

the blind and

the wise,

perpetual battles,

- for what?

The tempo is

death,

and the tempo is

life,

irrelevant events

inside

a singularity,

that is

sitting on

a dark canvas,

through which

we are flushed

into

the sewer

of the Cosmos

- for what?

 

Fivos R Drymiotis 10/22/2005