Shells of an empty soul looking.
A voodoo doll with expressionless eyes.
Engaged in an intentional emotionless struggle.
A twisted ghost of life’s life.
Mysterious living joy of the raging night.
Deep myriad rhythms of a hollow foot tapping on a hollow oak floor…
One tap, one tap more…
Repetition in lyrical turmoil.
Ebony and ivory in defense of imitation.

Glen Viljoen 1987

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