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Sounds


Kvasir
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Adrift,

World of currents,

Frayed ends, bent and coiled lengths. 

 

Ambient and alien comforts

Trump the familiar and the familial,

Silent home and unquiet mind.

 

Bends from within and without

Awake in time to stretch;

Sometimes to snap.

 

Noise pollutes,

But rather an ocean,

Than the echoes of a shell. 

 

 


 

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I decided to write something and wanted to post it here, I hope you like it. 

 

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