It
became existence, particular thoughts, albeit, deceptive thoughts: or
self-interests thoughts, roaming this small planet, barely peeking at mirrors:
our tummy notions, our gut indoctrination, our works seeming valid: at rocket
instincts, as opposed to reflecting, while better decisions played flutes: our
best manuscripts, seeming askew, our best thoughts met with opposition: but
this was life, our fragile resilience, our hurtful hearts, while longing for
answers: such assurance, such difficult analyses, while reflecting upon others:
immune to good days, adverse to certain feelings, seeking solace in strangers:
(this sad stature, vying for agreements, at tyrannical thoughts): therewith,
this sad aura, or this penchant for compliments, our mornings a bit
outspoken. I exist in us—this
precarious nature, while afraid of losing us: this seemingly fount, spread
where souls gather, a bit too fragile to hold ground: our allergies raging, our
indoctrination imposing, while resistant unto falling forward: such endless
blueprints, such walks searching turquoise skies, at evenness those seconds
reviewing maps: such dotted frenzies, such homesick Jazz, but deeds strike our
grapevine: if but to sing, this difficult task, our voices crumbling: where
rivers mimic motion, around ambivalent cages, our dreams seeping into
smoke. …those years were harsh, our
ways to privacy, while acts slithered out of our boxes: such running fever,
such redemptive acts, such drastic measures: our inner spirits, reading
collectively, while drenched in glitter: such rich repute, running from old
dungeons, recounting our fairer deeds: as good souls, wafting into battles,
re-listening to old tenets: to jettison something antisocial, to replace it
with something humane, as following this painful sequence: our souls at
charity, to possess this one star, while something pokes our interior: our sad
eyes, peering at temptation, wanting while resisting: thereto, this building
block, this inner fever for rightness, while following certain rules: as
reversing injustice, singing something glorious, while existence carries a
sullen coat…. Such rich existence,
this feel-fervent-high, our thoughts in transition: to possess sadness, but
better, goodness, rebuilt and gunning: our quartz glistening, our mental mica,
at sequences redeeming existence: to float with passion, to escape certain
feelings, while sentenced to explore those feelings: our eyes with gravity, our
song with clarity, our collars loosened: but a teardrop, but sweet melancholic
music, or but a special dream!
