pantheon
chameleon by eye-lakes such crocodiles. or much thought to panic is harmful—some
fresh water! a soul is made by tongues, a fork in skies, some belief leading to
comfort; absorbing you or leaving you as returning to you. we never felt reckless
while acting reckless into poise manufactured; untrained ghosts while spirit
teaches if but many wrought terrors! tarantulas ambushed us, many trapdoors, we
kept pining for other miracles … for it’s lonely to watch as others enjoy life
while pitted in crucifixion. we protected happiness while relishing in
narcotics—rehabilitation became pertinent. worlds burn. our music is monstrous.
we move carefully.
to feel is crucial while stimulation
requires more stimulation. so much intensity his mind needing intensity where he
manufactures intensity. a gift for rinsing where mud is its reasoning while a
soul catches his reflection. those rings in eyes or beige mind-grass where
memory is selective. a palm of wood-bugs or a curious butterfly if reflection
might remember. as restricted groups secluded in patchy spots while we notice
more visitors. if absent than find self if a mirror than reveal self—in all
your gathering, secure understanding.
buildings are pink or yellow where
paint chips — areas are designated for poverty.
most sip from indifference. or a
soul trying religiously. because Suzanne is outstanding. many accentuate their gifts,
as creatures given to their craft, but many have become sullen, plus, angry.
fires often rain. trees are damaged. rage becomes aimed at itself. but Suzanne
is careful, while Rome is sacrificed, she studies, jots notes, even completes
assignments.
several broke away, but not from
self, there’s horrors beneath those eyes. we give a soul miseries or rough
patches, then we ask for something fluffy, or hospitable, while most are trying
desperately. but souls adjust they become instruments where chess seems
essential. so, we ask if crucifixion for some is preparation for existence—even
depicting universality?
