Dark’s Other Side of the Moon
Odin Roark

Pink,
oh, so pink.
Such an uncommon reality.

Yes…

I’ll breathe in the air,
won’t be afraid to care.

So much to inhale.

Black,
murky,
clear,
translucent,
all.

Music’s infinite all…

Rolling strings.
brushes caressing the heads,
anonymous voices mixed with vocals continually inventing
vibratory echoes,
lead guitars’ ambiance never ending.

All there.

Our transport
to the other side,
where their music will continue to live,.
infusing the clear air,
giving plain air guts…
love.
insight.


Their vibes.
My vibes.
So many of us knowing
such synergy doesn’t get any better.

Tonal voices in the distance
wanting only to be heard
forever.

Still so sublime…

Strings ever present,
never the echo will fade,
never the voices of old,
young in the past,
timeless in the future,
passion in sound unfading.

Lather the quality strap.
Shave the excess.
Render the recess bells glorious.
We’re out on your playground.
Run freely Gilmour and Waters,
even on your own,
for separate or together,
genius sound knows immortality.

Listen…

For only in the minds of the unconscious
will Pink Floyd's creative words and sound fade.