Genur.art

Leave the sleep and let the springtime talk In tongues from the time before man Listen to a daffodil tell her tale Let the guest in, walk out, be the first to greet the morn The meadows of heaven await harvest The cliffs unjumped, cold waters untouched The elsewhere creatures yet unseen Finally your number came up, freefall awaits the brave Come, taste the wine Raise the blind They will guide you from the light Writing noughts till the end of time Come, surf the clouds Race the dark It feeds from the runs undone (Meet me where the cliff greets the sea)