It’s
more abusive, for somewhere low, to enjoy this space.
I
reached to it, ever to congregate, with fear to lose it.
Life
fueled
a
grain, where dungeons spoke love, dark and lonesome love.
Such
pain, to drag for dirt, composing woeful prose. I
stood
blankly, filled with intimacy, to feign a chessboard.
It’s
more for rain,
an
entity, flagging down turmoil. We tottered fences, to
wrestle
joy, drilled with infusion. Power spoke of darkness,
shadowed
in secrets, to slowly perish; where
shadows
are comfort, a familiar darkness, bedazzled with
lights.
I
heard it, to shatter brains, forever at war. Smaze engulfed
me,
ever a gray fog, to live a cave. I was night, to feel day,
where
tension engulfed. It increased for pain, to
court
for agony, rarely charmed. I walked through meadows,
to
muse
upon lilies, where dragons rose. Hell was close, in need
of
new accounts, whispering harshly.
It’s
still dim, a flaming light, with comfort elusive. I fly to
crawl,
and crawl to fly, a mile for abyss. Life is gray, plus for
color,
spinning through beauty. A world is vivid, fraught
with
fantasy, communing with an angel. We flirt, a
touchless
kiss, as faceless as daydreams. I write to breathe,
and
breathe
to write, lost in characters; and there’s a woman, a
wit
for storms, to challenge facades. We speak in brief, to feel
for
darkness, cringing our lot.
I’m
found to laugh, at something gray, a world within a
maze.
It’s not for lonesome, but ever distant, headed to
London.
Darkness
comes, to reckon light, where a soul is grumpy. I
hear
for love, a speechless love, as roofless as daydreams;
but
ever a feeling, to sculpture a myth, where words come to
life.
We’re
here, partly divine, to mingle with darkness. Is it fate,
a
canyon trail, aloof to a ladder? I ask, to conjure red eyes,
buffing
a picture.
