Saturday, 12 October 2013


You were right to steer well clear:
The status quo pervades this place;
The only way is down.

To Rakhmetov’s lair!
Where ideas are King,
Under a stalactite sky.

The bashing of hammers
becomes the flicking of knives
A scratch on the rock, surfaces on the skin,
As a razors line.

You were right to down your tools:
The status quo pervades this place
Where gold bleeds with an iron face.

A mountain pointing the wrong way,
Buried in the earth, and dormant in darkness;
A child in a well;
Where amidst the clouds a great thinker once sat,
Waiting for the night to take his place.

You climbed outside, freed your mind,
With ideas of heaven;
And a bright blue sky.

You were Right!

For he was glad of your leaving;
No longer teased with life,
Finally left at peace, to bleed himself dry.

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