poem 198

Decay, no more than a page a way

While dreams, well they travel for free 

Until minds, educated to find, all that shine 

And blind

And blind

And blind

With hate

With god 

With miraculous lies

And with a kiss, sold as tomorrow

Now the dream bleeds

And delay, no more than a page away

Here on that page

 dark rides into the sunset

While a friend, is sent to a camp

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Jessurun_de_Mesquita