Recent content by Markus Sinclair

O Love, O Joy, O Time, Be you without Reason and Rhyme? O Hate, O Grief, O Grace, Quantify these feelings in space. O Body, Soul, and Mind, Why is your logic hard to find? Indeed O Poet, to become complete: reason abstractions to become concrete.

It came to me upon a storm: The wild whisper of the wind. Although it did not hold a form My other thoughts were drowned in din. While in lament it spoke to me And lit my path through space and time. The portals opened to the sea And I split forth into its mind. My consciousness made time stand...