A brief moment of respite, by Bertu Stander

A brief moment of respite

When the wind calls to you,

and you stay inside.

Lands of unknown beckon

and you refuse to stir.

Shine from within like an untapped vein

and yet cowardly hide from yourself.

You die.

inch by inch

may I never be so inclined Manners be damned to mistake the passivity Meaningless mediocrity of the oppressive herd

Say, no more If I can not Own you, be obsessed by you I would rather not See you, be with you

Thanks, it was getting cold ‘fore you stole from the gods That transcendent fruit. Wisdom would’ve cost too much.

I’ve come close, enough to know, Cleanliness