Bonds

The road unfolding before us is thorny.

It's storming sweat and vagabonds;

And while it's tightening our bonds,

Our thoughts get scattered.

Above our heads, the sun is scorning—

It's burning red; its piercing rays

Are gnawing our bones. What mattered

Just a blink ago, now stays

So vaguely distant and forgotten.

It's raining lizards; we're juggling frogs

Through mists and fogs.

They were begotten of a dream

And fever which blossomed snow-white

In their favor. The dream will enter

Our lives, so lucid and milk-flavored.

The road before us never ends;

There are no tunnels—it's so bright,

So blinding. And our bonds are binding us.