they knew nothing

touch the sky
climbing
crack of dawn
all thought is lost
reach the peaks
all words lose meaning
the more we speak
the less we sneak
old gazes into new fazes
no nostalgia
only nostalgic trauma
of the new
touching the sky
climbing
mid-day
no new founding of idea,or logic,
no mortal,moral gods among us
to bestow any a strange gift
touching the sky
climbing
evening and night
no brainstorms thundering
and no rain to wash anew

MG ★
©6.1.2015

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