Where To Go

Go to the speaking moon 
to fell the stars, 
and to learn a way of becoming― 

It was a rough ride. 
How could you open the 
fist of darkness 
and see in absolute nihility? 

Can you unattach me, 
when I was seeking your pith 
in my poems? 

Come to me with unarmed 
lies, to fight with my truths. 
Life is very short and I have― 
many things to do.

To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.