They Find Us Falling

I’m naïve a bit too much, where grounds break, as essence falls—to enliven souls, spewing through venom, something akin to peace; this fraction of us, sorting through mind-waves, at caves a mile to hearts; while gray our lights, this fusion within, torn through drapes that face; whereto, this harp, or more this organ, traipsing mystic dungeons. I flew at will, this deep confusion, pushed by extraterrestrials: that shove through grime, that tight fitting mystique—this thing as partial as love; to find this face, but a shoulder to souls—this space filled with chaos; as born with fey, this mystic child, sorting through artifacts. I was with need—that place of ventures, to speak this apology; but time broke ranks, traversing islands, where our souls conjured nuances; where love shivered, as intruding lands—this precious squirrel—as given signs, zipping through trees, harassing patience. I loved us, this internal clock, before hell drenched lagoons; to sing of pressures, this infernal fire—our inner kilns. It shouldn’t be broken, this thing that is, seeping through golden brooks; to pass with angst, this cave of ripples—our magnets attracting sorrows. I pause through gestures, staring at pain, this woman feeling at ease; to trespass souls, or to hold a grimace, while one is speaking of pain; or more another, to chide through redness, a bit angered by a statement; but this is life, this grand appeal, where feuds are inevitable. We dance immortal—our words as chancellors—they dangle above souls; to haunt with fierceness, this partial affect, as it lingers through essence; that first impression, as dated in time, this woman to believe he doesn’t see;—now whose naïve, as living with answers, ashamed that the world is suffering. It had to be life, as careful to see—this wealth of motives; but where was love, when hell was infused, as abusing this terminal? I ask with haste, floored in turmoil, but a man as spirit—driven towards affections, pierced by anxiety, in-love with patience; this sore contradiction, as spirit speaks, while to elude a present vessel; this thing for worries, as controlled partially, spaced through various dimensions.