Saturday, February 21, 2009

Différance

Pages turn, questions burn
No way to tie the ends
Concepts swirl, confusion curls
The chords of my mind in knots
Where I saw the ground, I now see sand
Rising tides, where once was land
There is no rope to escape this sea
Its billows crush, overwhelm me
A Journeys calm--the end draws near
When we see light, we have no fear
But on this trip there's no respite
Just vultures, questions, encircle the site
Journey's shared, none are spared
From this hell we call différance

1 comment:

Logan Friess said...
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