Everyday the Sunrise

 
 
I am with my comforting flock,
out - through - out the city  
 
we fly on stained wings,
and with a broken heart,
 
feeling old as we tarry in the fields  
each day I know the sunrise,  
 
all around the merchant's square,
we drive going back and forth  
 
colors moving through each part  
of the loop as the sun falls
 
in a disguise my treasure  
lay deep in the shadows
left behind in a strange land
where I know nothing at all,
 
trapped in the ambitious mind
never to live any legend
 
I light candles and throw photons
and let them melt throughout the carpet,  
someday I'll write about it,  
she says, says I,
that's all that can be expected,
 
as told by some Gipsy woman  
lost in time, and long ago neglected  
 
the golden threads of my journey  
in my heart's wisdom, alone I collected,  

the spells, they finally dissapear as an illusion.