A poem I wrote to commemorate the fulfilment of a dream, an inspiration, a dance, a revelry. To many more dances, revelries, dreams and inspirations, to the setting sun and the flickering stars. To you.
Through the looking glass I Peered
Upon a portal, dim, dwindled and veneered
The revolution be not mine if dance I may not
waylaid, wanted, villified by the pitch of camelot
Take me to the pitch of night
Yonder where the skies part and bluebirds take flight
Wake me from these staccato dreams
Shuddering, plundered. Ripped from the seams
For in this bliss of Eden lie no truths, just sweetness and light
Amk
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