An attitude churns, lost in a vacuum, to imagine
conversation; that heartbrain wisdom, connected to mindstuff, as feigning
aloof. I see for struggle, this need to intervene, but lost to feelings. I love
as humankind, as to mirror infractions, that torn through sable eyes; but what
is life, its ultimate meaning, this travel through souls? I felt you early, as
so naïve, this push to convey nonsense; but is it more, this great defeat,
where two are bipolar: this chiseling song, this too far illusion, as haunting
for years. I can’t explain—fevered where we dwelt, this inappropriate feeling;
as far too green, as forever too bold, as purposed to retreat. You entered by
stealth, this backdoor kingdom, as to offend a prophet; where eyes are teary,
as love is lethal, sipping a thousand dollar wine. I can’t but see us, enlove
with justice, evolved in injustice; as torn apart, pushing towards glory, to
live as inner fugitives. I’ve watched us grow, from such a distance, to hear a
name filled with chills: this inner gravel, this knuckled cement—our prayer
static in pavement; to feel infused, as drunk with power—this infant type
enchantment; to see with vision, this never
as dreams, that closer to a breakthrough; to mount a thought,
semi-addicted, fallin’ towards a delusion. I must say more, where one makes
claims, as devoted to elusive love. I try to feel, this deep reality, where never punctures that inner soul; to find
for mercy, this mystic drill, pushing into divinity. I love us less, to adore
us more, this slight variance; to address a soul, as so appropriate, as to gain
a friend; where love is castles, this inward soul, grieving for times so aloof.
So feel us dying, as to feel us rising, to enter into a mutual calm; where
music is rhythm, that chasm of affairs, so close as to hear for magic.
