"Enter the Owl"
Night has fallen. world is there, changed, inverted.
Translucant shapes on the window pane,
spectral bodies scroll across the window pane.
a morphosing myriad - the invisible surface always staying the same.
this screen of dream upon the window pane their canvas always remainging the same. The Flame
burns not the real,
only the shadows it reveals.
never a tear or the surreal scream be ignored... eyes have dialated with their force of motion, their texture manipulates the pulp of Mind,
( )Don't give up the Race.
Hope struggles in a deep grey beyond -
wriggles through a black warm soil. Untangling
into a flush of air - blind
in a sudden sense of space