Slave by the blue tree

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Slave by the blue tree
There is no such thing, as you see
It is all in your head, as it is in mine
let go of your beliefs, I will be fine

Friend with golden wings
To those dead roots why do you cling?
Nothing matters after a while
As a race we are designed to survive

What is real
and what is not?
Does it matter
when you go to the theater, alone?

Dreamer beneath the undercurrents
Live, breathe, dance and sing
Is any thing ever as it seems?
We will never know what it means.

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Author: pecsbowen

reader.philosopher.writer

2 thoughts on “Slave by the blue tree”

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