.the sound of voices gentle down
.the grips of boldness passes by
.of knotted things to teach the way
.and subtle music to keen the dawn

.sometimes i feel as an aged bird
.with the mirror yielding as i face
.the blown up posters
.of my frustration

.the scream inside my head
.drowns the silence outside
.and no one knows
.the chaos in my thoughts

.standing at the foot of the mountain
.seeded by dark forest
.where not a ray of light peeks through
.to see the stir within

.i need to climb and
.get to the other side
.before the daybreak of
.next morning

.but the claw has ventured
.and all the sniffs
.have been cheated
.blind the creatures of the night will be

.jacob g
.01 .entry 0504
.that’s my incoherence .my disarray