Grey mist creates a smaller world the eye strains <br />To see beyond the possible, where only the inner <br />Vision can see the unseen for which it can´t blink <br />Close an eye, or turn away from disgusting truths. <br />Dull miasma dreamy as passing melancholy, turns <br />Angel white burnoose at dawn, with a hint of rusty <br />Harp strings, a whiff of green straws, full of tears <br />That will be handed out to children under five. <br /> <br />Aurora, the Roman Goddess of daybreak, when <br />Natural light puts night in a sack and throws it down <br />A well where nights of horror dwell but refuse to <br />Be still forever trying to escape its own darkness, <br />Longing to be back in some ones head, pining to <br />Be formidable and strong, but the day will not let it.<br /><br />oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/symphony-for-stringed-instruments/
