.•° § °•.
° From Smoke, Perfume
There’s a man they call 'What-If',
No trace of him in 'Cool-Is' drift.
'What-If' just stays, waiting to die...
How 'Cool-Is' flies in the summer sky...
'What-If' sees ash within the smoke,
'Cool-Is' finds perfume in smoke.
Both watch amazed, as moments turn,
And from Fire, new paths they learn!
A drifting thought, a walking stray,
From pockets to buses along the way,
Searching in fate, a maniac’s part,
Intelligent yet silent… art. \*
Writing by now for quite a while,
Writing the sounds that match my style.
Writing non-stop, I feel the thunder,
Writing as fools storm in and plunder!
How Lucifer fell down from on high,
While Jesus climbed back into the sky.
From a divine impact, so bright...
'What-If' becomes 'Cool-Is', refined by light!
I wish you a beautiful day, gentle soul.
I’ve left you a thought to make you whole,
A thought you won’t find, look as you might...
But feeling it, you shine bright.
How lucidly we all may suffer here,
A star falls, yet we feel no fear.
Or a cloud, 'Cool-Is' in its flight,
Slowly fades into the morning light...
.•° § °•.