It is an olde tale often told
That is still good

Ev’rything broken
Ev’rything lost

A prodigal son of Isis
Washes ashore en the City of Light

{One-Beat Pause}

Gazing upon his form (en a mirror of spotless glass),
An anointed, tho’ terribly flaw’d, maker of bridges
Shrugs his shoulders,

“The wings feel a lot lighter than eye remember.”

© LogosVox 2013

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s