Age of Production

You talked to me when someone threw a pebble around the grass.

The waves wandering there whispered shhhh…

I went into my subconscious sleep and lit the golden lamp of earth.

I found a pen lying there unarmed and unloaded

Many stories hath the pen mused over to come to me.

I, untouched by the earthly passions lay bare as the newly wed virgin,

Nothing spoilt me, neither  their love nor anger.

Or was the tumblr of venom pouring from deceitful eyes present.

I covered myself in the good dirt flowing beside me to reach other souls,

I wandered to those words revealing, combined them

Creating the age of production,

a time when art meets life.

You talked to me when someone threw a pebble around the grass.

The waves wandering there whispered shhhh…

I went into my subconscious sleep and lit the golden lamp of earth.

I found a pen lying there unarmed and unloaded

Many stories hath the pen mused over to come to me.

I, untouched by the earthly passions lay bare as the newly wed virgin,

Nothing spoilt me, neither  their love nor anger.

Or was the tumblr of venom pouring from deceitful eyes present.

I covered myself in the good dirt flowing beside me to reach other souls,

I wandered to those words revealing, combined them

Creating the age of production,

a time when art meets life.