missingislands: (Default)
2012-02-03 05:38 pm


Sometimes I believe I can do anything
More often than not, nothing
My trouble is  falling in-between places,
but not in love

Is it fear making me careful?
Or some need for veils, for 
always another layer, for there 
not to be truth; I dispute everything
without stopping to wonder what side I am on
Some strange mercy; I feel them all.

Still, sometimes, I think it is love
not for you, not for me, just something spread over 
A little thinly perhaps. 

But then, the world is large. 

missingislands: (Default)
2012-02-01 01:24 am
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In the evening, when the bells ring peace,
I follow the wonderful flights of birds,
That in long rows, like devout pilgrim-processions,
Disappear into the clear autumn vastness.

Wandering through the dusk-filled garden
I dream after their brighter destinies

 ( excerpt from Decay by Georg Trakl)