Criss cross across the plain
Swirling around the iron bell
Neat white lines fill the space
Of void across the circle maze
Do you want to be free?
Inwards from side into the main
Stories that these lines tell
Lay flat on a opaque face
Down and up, they stir a gaze
What do you want to see?
Steering inside they make a lane
Slumping down the pits of hell
Finally giving up their chase
Flopping, flirting, fiery glaze
Free the lines. Count till three.
© Poete Maudit (Underwaterfall.com)