Incurably unkown

[Omar Khalifah]

Should I live? Should I die?
And The sun upon my head let dream
Of meeting the moon.
Perfect, ecstasy so slow,volatilizing
To the azure carpet.
Disappearing from the old snow,
And the river beyond me let flow,
And the gray wooden village sink,
The broken damsel let weep
Upon her white- washed Swain.

Blue to green,
A wish ,a dream
A nightmare.
A heart-wrenching calamity.
-all so odorless-
-all too clear- that all is the same
Ascending" something"
After hundreds of years,
Defined cannot be.
At last incurably unkown.