I am an agnostic, now not sure
Whether I am clay in your hand
That hand of the cosmic potter
Or, in the hand of a dung roller
The beetle that thrives in shit!
But I am certain of that pain
Caused by continuous hard spin
And thrashing with smashing
Turning those primal elements
Within my soul to bleed to death!
There is one thing that echoes
And keeps constantly re-echoing:
Before it is too long, and my eyes
Fade to perceive effects in light
Will I become a handy vessel?
Henry Victor 23.04.2008
Whether I am clay in your hand
That hand of the cosmic potter
Or, in the hand of a dung roller
The beetle that thrives in shit!
But I am certain of that pain
Caused by continuous hard spin
And thrashing with smashing
Turning those primal elements
Within my soul to bleed to death!
There is one thing that echoes
And keeps constantly re-echoing:
Before it is too long, and my eyes
Fade to perceive effects in light
Will I become a handy vessel?
Henry Victor 23.04.2008
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