When perchance i gaze through the looking glass,
The fragrant maze of time, transports my soul,
To eternity village where nothing is whole.
An infinite number of selves dance in mass,
Like subconscious thoughts they pass and pass
Passionately their freedom, they do extoll
Providing me with my fossil my fever my foal
To journey, passively above the surface.
Colourfully gliding in the ''fools'' costume,
Carefully circling climates that are fine;
Where warmth is found in the human perfume,
Where mankind is kind without design,
Descending when i can freely presume,
That possessions are nill and naught is mine!!!
by ritt