from isolation to the sounds of spring madness
drenched feet spring the empty house
unmask the dharma buddha springs to his feet
fine tune the propaganda a voice to desire
within this microcosm another bed of lies
untie the knot and lay the virus to rest
in essence the walls close in on sanity
only fair that we learn to dream again spring
writing this car horn startles the soul
after dark the stillness settles for awhile
