coal-dusted feathers of an oriental magpie

i woke up today 

and the world has changed

(though i can’t tell quite what it is)

the skies bloodied, tainted, speckled with ink
drops in your lungs; air euphoric and heavy
with iron ores and rayon pulp

cold—
my knees are burning hot, but god is cold.

puppet strings and two-faced kings:
condensed (accelerated?) history—

where is time?

please fade, just fade to black

they say that the sea of possibilities has expanded and yet 
shrinking spiritual death, drowning and frozen,
like paperweight in chains

a golden cage is still a cage

Decadence has a way of 

unraveling the heart that has been pushed too hard

they say take it slow and let time heal everything;
they say that time flies,
but you keep breaking its wings

human as you are, 
you won’t be able to deny what they say

when is home, home?

follow the wind, the clouds and the moonlight
drums whispering ganggang suwollae
as if asking “let’s just flow”

but how do we go back?

after all, the trains wait for no one