I’m searching for the color of the mirror
It’s cursing me with blessings getting clearer
A wave is both the coming and the going
And fate is both the plunging and the flowing
But if I just went under would I hear her?
Would the universe’s thunder volunteer her?
I wait upon its drumming as I’m floating
In a state of becoming, never hoping
Then wickedness scorches as the day is done
Am I Icarus or Galileo’s Sun?
Yes maze is both the hunting and the growing
The craze is both the dumbing and the knowing
I know Plato’s thesis: he’d say ‘maybe one’
I suppose I’m Prometheus making puns
Trance state is oncoming, I watch it glowing
To the gate, as I’m running, stopwatch-smoking