beyond the cliff edge (redwill) wrote,
beyond the cliff edge

Johnny, oh Johnny, you're dreaming again
the cuckoo is crowing yet still you remain
dead to the world and it's very plain
the flat land of feeling is where there's no pain
the river is flowing and cuts through the land
whether it's rock or whether it's sand
the fires down below push up flowers and mountains
the wolves and the leopards drink from blood fountains
the fleece of your ram is sheared with a blade
and from your covering life's fabric is made

parts one parts won - Lancelot Price 2007 December 15 Sunday 18:12
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