Deep inner trip as
the never ending hunt
An invisible map, empty
upside down in my forehead
When I lose pace, the brain
runs too fast on walkways
In future moments through
past darkness no present time
In the end of the rainbow,
the end of all, no maps
no meaning
Björn Blomqvist 2016-02-26
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Björn Blomqvist
Published Poet with B.A. In Art History and B.A. in History too. Blogs about Art and Culture encounters, art analysis and about history and trevels. Still writing on my first novel and meanwhile a lot of Poetry.
Some kind of Word Artist...
View all posts by Björn Blomqvist