I’m
want for peace, somewhat contrite, feeling vibrations.
How
is it us, miles apart, mourning softly? No one sees,
to
ignore for seen, spent on righteousness. I soon drift, to
utter,
I love you, fashioned in trials. Let it be, to live,
ever
a beat closer. I want for peace, mostly distant, hoping
for
silence. Such for grace, a precious swan, to float
through
motion; and so many ideals, to lose attention,
crossed
for facts. I feel you more, to fathom plight, and
ever
to remember. It’s a rocky journey, where reason—is
often
frowned upon. You must want for peace, and main-
tain
integrity, else, perish nightly. Many, such as self,
carry
scars. They come—ever to scar, difficult to divest.
So
face music, speak curtly, and excavate mind. I want for
peace,
where peace is costly, refusing to forfeit peace.
Often
we play pretend, to shelter egos, to maintain peace;
but
cleanse daily, ever to meditate, to fly—while sitting
still.
In truth, we tolerate to witness, to filter for truth; but
this
is futile, when a heart is beating anguish.
