We
live it bruised, and filled with zeal, a sip for sorrow.
Some
are cloven, to shatter a mirror, graven a soul. I see it in
clouds,
to lave a dream, swimming through teardrops; but
more
to joy, to scream touché, heavy for debate. It’s pure
the
rush, flushed in tension, to sip such nectar. I saw a
dream,
a shadowed contour, to flicker embers. We feel a
feature,
a heated fervor, to change a mood; and one hollers:
“I’m
not alone, to face for gravity.” Its tender a flame, for
ears
to burn, to feel for splendor. I wrestle stars, a bit for
grand,
to fall though risen. I relish a thought, to find for
gems,
alive a carnival. It’s ride to ride, a touch of debt, to
forget
a feature. Indeed a nimbus, to sin a grave, to taste
elixir.
We peak for pain, to rupture for joy, alive the music;
and
oh for bliss, to kiss a moment, ten miles a pit. I felt a
symbol,
to crawl a brain, afield a fruit; for life is green, a
tint
of beige, a stream of rills. We live it gray, asearch for
colors,
to unveil passions. I see in shades, an axe to bark,
to
rebuild souls.
