Its voice is not heard often
Even though the mouth is always open
The door poetry opens is usually seasonal
Please judge not, I sound not personal

No doubt, the route it shows is insightful
But the agony of coming and going is painful
Is it that Apollo is willed it thus,
Only divulges the message to whom he trusts?

How I like to be drunk with this wine
To dance on the Hall of Fame with a smile
Now I know intuitively it comes
At all times it has refused to flow

But my thirst knows no bounds
Since its breast milk breeds the bond
Like a child to its mother
I must climb through this ladder

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s