Poem by Gaudys Laxury
Frustration is the name of the game; amidst the dark blue sky and the swaying willow tree. Running in the open road between the unknown and the unsaid; beyond the shadows and sublime triangle. Feeling the waters in the sky like hot steam coming off a radiator; to the pressures of the volcanic seven summits. Seeking, looking, gazing to the introspections of the world; beyond the hourglass, each time ticking by. Like old father time and its antiquity to the baby new year; new hopes and dreams. One look above beyond bright lights, moonlight thoughts; the darkness follows but swallowed by the hollow willow tree.