Thomas Bot | A Loner’s Vantage

Standing where only I have been
Where thoughts bloom green
Where brisk giant strides lead backwards
And slow gentle strides firmly planted lead forward

I am in this place where no one has ever been
Where I seem the only real being seen
Where my thoughts yell “scoldingly” in my head
And my tongue is drained of saliva for the many of deprived bread

I am standing on this plain where no one has stood
Where actions brew, both bad and good
The same carpenter making caskets and beds
Both with a cushion to lay wearied heads

I am standing where I stand alone
A vast space that is raped of a horizon
As far out as I look
I see only my own self
Like staring into a mirror too large and heavy for a hook
Admiring the wealth and vanity of my pelf.

I am standing where I stand beside no one
Enclosed in a cocoon-like cone
With a reaped out tongue
A grilling soul on a fork with one prong.

I am standing where no one has stood
Where new breeds are a-brood
Where only dreams are real
Where humanity may finally feel
Feel the burn of the fire we are fanning.