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Visions of the World by Nikos Laios 2017-12-27 11:55:51 |
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Visions of the World
I travelled at night On quiet country roads In a beat-up car Through the valleys Of my youth Seeing visions Of the world.
The wind rushing Through my hair Filling my nostrils With the scent of pine In the chilled rustic silence, Punctuated by the sounds Of gently swaying trees And rustling reeds, With patches of glowing Lights illuminating Small towns, The twinkling stars Fixed to the velvet sky Like diamonds, The green snake Curled up on a rock Next to the rusted petrol pump, A lamp filling an upstairs room With a ball of orange light As the screen door downstairs flapped in the breeze, And the old streetwalker smoked her last cigarette While the children curled up in their slumber, And the sounds of pounding sledgehammers Mingled with hissing steam as the work crew Pounded the nearby damaged tracks into submission Waiting for their dying shift and the morning light.
I floated like a leaf in the wind Carried over streets and towns, Valleys and streams, Seas and oceans, Visions and revisions Births and deaths, New souls curled Like new leaves, Dead souls Crunched and crumpled Like dead leaves Among cigarette butts And scraps of paper waiting For the mulch, blown by the wind Into the flotsam floating In dank streams and sewers Gurgling to the toilet sea.
I travelled at night On quiet country roads In a beat-up car Through the valleys Of my youth, With half a tank of petrol left And half a pack of cigarettes Seeing visions Of the world.
The sky rumbled And I touched the rain, The drops fed my pores, I ran my hand through my hair, I lit up my last Cigarette and waited, Staring at the velvet sky.
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With a digital drawing from Nikos Laios
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Check Nikos Laios' EBOOK Ida & Her Magic Camera is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!

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