Archive for July 15, 2011

The monk


High upon a mountain with no name

there lived a monk, it was unknown from where he came

There seemed to be no time, no words were spoken here

The monk saw night and day and breathed the air so clear

He drank the water that he found

and ate just what was brought to him

by his sole companion, a lonely eagle. Life was grim

Β Then after seven years,

the monk returned

His skin was burned

His mouth dried up

His clothes all torn

In admiration people stood

silent, wondering how he could

have lived like this for all those years

There were some tears

Β .

Would he say something wise?

They followed him but he said none

A little girl gave him a flower

He smiled, and all felt that the time had come

that he would speak and tell his name, say words of wisdom

He opened his mouth, all held their breath

Before he could say a single word

he died right on the spot

The wind was hauling, that was all that could be heard


They carried him back on the windy mountain

To let the bird that lived there eat his flesh

No one will ever know the wisdom of the monk


But the eagle knows

That and the fact that wise monks are too skinny to make a good supper.



When the darkness closes in


When the darkness closes in

and the weary mind is lost

between the dead trees, slope and Β cliff

and there is no hope nor if,

the angry mob of unseen fears

is approaching silently


When it is too late for tears

when all seems to be too late

will you be there

Β to shine a light

in my darkest hours be

the one to help and make me see

that darkness always passes by

and the demons always die

when the daylight closes in


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