Mood Swing

July 11, 2015 - Poetry

The lazy, mazy motion
Oscillating their endless undulations,
Beneath the dark and waning moon

Produce some silly notions,
Made only by the dying aberrations,
That see and saw, crow and croon.

Rising slow as from the ocean,
Now rolling down the self-built, ego emanation,
Shifts backwards from hue to hue.

Silly, silly, silly emotions,
At six it soars, seven falls, eight elation,
Flying high we’re crashed by noon.

We find no magic potion,
To save poor waiting souls of dying patience
Lost forever in their swoon.

› tags: Poetry /

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