The serpent 1983

The isolated sea.
Feel the motion of
Trying to be.
The essence of motion
in time,
Will flow to the ocean of dreams,
Which are mine.

The ocean is filled with
Millions of thoughts,
On others or left
To be caught.

Where is the fisherman
Baiting his hook,
Trying new methods
He’s read in a book.
Can anything new help him catch
What is old?
Does he want to surpass
Beyond the threshold?
Imagine his longing
To slip
Through the gate,
Could he truly be craving
The glimmer of hate?

Prepare for the depth,
And the darkness,
So bold.
And fish in that lonely sea,
That has grown cold.
What ever is found there,
What ever is seen,
Can only be
Thought of as being
A dream.


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