The Neighbour

sinhendra

ImageHidden in the undergrowth of the heart

is a wailing song,

clutching at the wind.

Here, darkness chills blood,

deeper still a silence spills yet we wall it up and fear it.

Fear its silence singing through our viens

spilling out of everything.

And we organise our time living out on the borderline,

hanging on the edge of the precipice.

Nearby, our neighbour, the world beyond these walls, dances and plays

in its wildness.

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