there is a frantic oblivion
we dance all into
a madding crowd
with gaping swirling
the maze of feet
gropes the unknown
nebulae too many stars
stamp out the pulse
of riot and rung bells
carving time itself out
under a haze of sawdust
risen the bright bones
of chaos and calm
because beauty settles
to a distant pace
things which burn
but not forever
Commentaires