written by: Cary Chrysler (skyinthegrass)
What rhyme has found its way,
to such a living soul?
What name are you,
and how have you captured me?
or being aware.
Without the light of dreams,
a carnival of ghosts.
The nature of the poet’s heart:
That I adore you,
without knowing your last name.
Like surf crashing against rock,
without color, the flowers of holy dreams.
What master’s work,
what founded city in the sky.