A collection of half-hazard words put together to form "poetry".
Optimism, clearly breaths
Auto-exclusivity.
Reach for winter's heavy sheath
Post the crunchy autumn leaves.
Endless summer, please evoke
Mornings late and evenings old.
Bring to me the past that was
All things home and nothing but.
I take refuge in the thought
We are nothing but a spot
Floating in a space so vast
Makes this populace seem drab
This, for me, is how I feel
And, personally,
Like simple lines
seem simple still
I know that I am meant for something bigger
A minuteness magnified
Via constant rigor
A grandiose part in a film shot at night
With long working hours leading Dawn into light
A complex system fabricated from thoughts
Constructed from ruins
Kept in a box
Disguised as cathedrals or places of worship
Enveloped by darkness.
Concealed.
The wonders of this place, like nothing we could ever breed
Philosophies replaced, by human minds hopped up on greed
The common truth between, all life and knowledge blooming here
Will sit in displaced awe, until you're secrets are revealed
And that's the thing you miss, a cold corrosive sabotage
And that's the ring you kiss, to prolong your pathetic song
No chords or melodies, to decorate your blackened lung
For all the words you speak, are guided by that blackened tongue
The times I had are lost
In past events of ruins old
Used up and worst of all
They're worn from countless stories told
I live in moments gone
The ones that occupy my mind
Like spells they're cast upon
This empty circle that is time
So carefully I choose
Which vessels I will redefine
As art or country blues
I paint in hues the subtle line
Between the outer world
And what exist within the seams
Is where we're all unfurled
The stitches of the galaxy
A microscopic form
As seen from distances beyond
To fathom thoughts like these
Would take much longer than a night
But not so much it seems
For those who contemplate the day
For thinkings in their streams
Or so the thinkers like to say
