Why
for this day, Love; born out of turn, determined for such parents; never to
despair, this air of majesty, as concentrated as Kung Fu. We’ve broached a
vortex, this living scar, to cry for justice; this thought of pearls, this
inner conversion, to build upon legends. We love for hearts, to see them fly,
that mist of presence. The journey was paved, out of tears and contention, to
out mourn Jeremiah; but never to perish, this immortal life, trekking through
dreams; where prayers are budlike, and parallels amaze—the wanderlust. This day
has come, to slice this wave, as one so precious. I thought of Isaiah, to dwell
in mercy, to summons his soul; as to infuse a swan, while dawn is grieving, but
times are joy, to have for nuances, the grandest tides, to restructure focus.
Wisdom is intricate, where shadows roar, where daughters cleave to reason; to
challenge, the erring thought, to witness a catastrophe. I held earrings, and diamond anklets, and
dropped a tear; for hell was near, to overthrow silence, a ring of introjects;
nevertheless, live as a giant, as wise as legends, and court imagination; as to
chisel a memoir, to enhance character, to give depth to thoughts; for this is
us, affected by lightning, to out-dance affliction. We seek for signs, reading
through symbols, the breadth of this agreement; while many watch, to join our
journey, where the heart morphs; this inner communication, as prided on fey, as
welkin as mystery. We’re given this day, as chided by life, to closely triumph.
What for this life, in turn to see, the muddy mirrors; as to buff frantically,
this way of waves, where air is a beam of light; so live to outlive—the trials
and tribulations, to shine in the darkest room; for these are measures!
