Alas
tesla
alas the moon it is crying.
alas the sun it is dying.
in circles of spite does the sky spit,
in squares of reason does my mind split.
such is the night,
such is the day.
in travails of plight it is to my dismay.
there is no comfort here in all that is not mine.
there is no solitude without the clouds breathing free.
in the noise of the rush,
does my mind feel at peace.
in that which is from me
do I see as I wish.
Back