I have these hands, and my hands hold me upon serate blades of shattered infinity
I long for emptiness lost but to touch this; to finally fall off and stop bleeding
but these hands, they're funny; they keep holding on
as I tear and tear myself trying to get home

I have these feet, and my feet anchor two legs to the shaky ground
that spins so much I never quite catch the stillness I fancy beyond
so I run along after this world, trying to follow the day
but every night the sun goes down and stars sparkle farther away

They say a brain's inside my head, a supermachine that thinks
and living, loving, wonders if I'm greater than it seems
if soul beyond, deathless and pure, might rise along after it rots
and find itself within everything instead of fighting for crumbs

but this brain, it's funny; it keeps telling me
nothing comes in here, and none can know me






© G.Cassel 2004