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Echoes that somehow |
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Can surround us |
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Can resound through stillness |
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Like thoughts of shifting this balance |
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Ideas of ideals convolve like intricate phases |
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Your revelations displayed at two thousand expositions |
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The mind is going out now |
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Slowly passing by windows |
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And someone's silver shatter-shape |
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Re-form perfect symmetry |
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And give us dis-concord |
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Find a place to be now |
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To a-view the beauty of deconstruction |
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In a surplus of noise that no one hears |
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Where silence surrounds us |
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Idyllic translation |
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From quiet to noise |
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In every city street made of steel and concrete |
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Passing adjoining buildings that fall apart |
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Forever sincere |
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Remind me of these times |
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All features shattered |
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Slightly off-key |
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Scattered and forgotten |
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The patterns vividly deformed |
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Shine a light on placid visions to revere |
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Found a place where structures come down |
