orgami's Diaryland
Diary
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the wastelands of geist
the gravity of night is near
slinking like a fresh smell
like burning woodsmoke
vivid as falling stars
in August skies
dreamland waits for me
my ticket purchased with
what Ive seen
where ive sat
whom Ive been the forest sleeps
i want to go there
hear their limbs
rattling in brisk
winds like dry bones
a shamans dance i can feel the soul
of the land bare
its eyes upon me
close my eyes
falling into the
shadow of tommorow's
tommorrow which is
never here
12:03 a.m. - 2009-03-02
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