A gaze from a maze :
It reached the pinnacle
Of a spinning mountain
A mountain that wasn’t a mountain
A mountain that may be a myth
A mountain that may be a mist
Ever before the eclipses and ellipses
The gaze from the maze untold :
O Mountain, O Mountain
Why are you spinning so much
Why are you ocular like an oracle
We wanted you to spew and spell red red ashes
Mountain mused in myriad moorings :
Lumen, O Lumen
Why are you gazing so much
There is so much of pain in my mirrors
There is so much of flux in my faces
There is so much of ash in my wishes
There is so much of spin in my rain
There is so much of echo in my edges
There is so much of clutter in my caves
There is so much of rift in my rafts
There is so much of pyre in my prisms
Gaze grooved into the gyrus gist of the mount
Mountain, O Mountain
The mistaken mirror of rocky rivers
You are never a manacle for our mazes
It was leeched by the limps and lashes of lumen
Lost in a locus of logarithms, the mountain melted million times
Lost in the lyre of larks, the mountain mirrored mincing primes
Gauges of gyrus kind gave a grim veer of verdicts
Mountain was spinning out of soil and self
It paved the way of mooring ashes
Sages, spirals, spells and serpents
They just segregated witnesses ever after
Prisons and Pilgrims were done thereafter
