The Beat Goes On Poem by Bengt O Björklund

Blistering threads of comprehension
pull at everyday’s withering everyday,
the silent agreement with what will be
and the carefree flickering of the fingers.

No blame to him who stands to loose
nothing but grief and sorrow.

Night might not find another lover
silently turning all rhythmical intentions
into unexpected inevitabilities.
It might not survive this observation.

Fidelity flies with the best.

No more shall the unintentional
fill the gap of feeble failure.

The beat goes on.