What if it just comes out? 
What if it just comes out?
What about the decretive night? 
The withering spoon harassing the young child? 
She burns in 
She burns for you, does she? 
Slithering away the darkness comes inside 
She breaks it 
She follows without it 
The withered night 
The black less night 
The inside 
The outside 
Where are you now? 
Where are you falling to? 
Down and down and down and down we keep going 
We don’t know where the future will be 
We don’t know where the past has ever been 
We hold on to everything we think we should hold on to 
But in the end we all just try to release 
Release ourselves 
Release the abstract ways of independent thought 
The mines, the deep mines of black rocks 
The silver strings 
She comes, she always comes, doesn’t she? 
At night when you’re sleeping
When you’re thinking 
But you don’t know 
You’re taking everything in 
When you’re eyes are closed and you’re mind is off 
You’re taking everything in 
But the light outside still doesn’t have the light within


La Monde

Tell the world a little about yourself.  The shorter the better.

PTRICE BLANC

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