Sunday, October 13, 2013

The Curve of Sleepy Circles



Sleepy circles.
Planets
wobble on the edge.
Shards of light trumps the void.

Drunkards born
into this cosmos,
where prophets whisper into thunder,
and are dismissed.

The world mends the breach with the compassion 
of unwavering truth. 
Each breath born,
to bind us to the last.






The words from the Sunday Whirl- edge, trumps, drunkard, world, mends, bind prophet, born, expected, circles, sleepy, thunder