inadequacies
are ambiguities which become melancholies. I have ridden wings at terrors to
reflect upon ice storms. by devils in me so confused in me while convergence
was math in me. such unspoken apostasy at an impasse where tragedy was tacit.
such years at an upper mind while sensing a deeper chasm — most only understand
their classification. aside rose petals or near oaken fire while sanctioned to
deteriorate; moves into caves or mental abrasions as cuffed to dear shame — those
aches those diamonds while partially at abeyance. to see a woman, to ask more
questions, while we need to know track records; or an ex-convict, some pillar
of his community, so gifted but not enough. as relinquished to chains or
forbidden from riches or trained to hate himself. too many workers as trying
with flame while one trusted, violated his contract: to exist in harmony, to endorse
altruism, as never to ruffle or ripple fragile lakes. so much to reason our telic
sanctuary as we scream, “To hell with that!”
we try to look left, but color is right, while behavior is monumental.
to unfeather a soul to describe intolerance while most are unveiling something
ugly — those deposited truffles or pains in vaults in such a way we must
intrude. something comes to thoughts, in this world of ambiguities, either we integrate
to flourish, or we stick to our “own” failing to expand, while judging “others”
— as cruel beasts or broken musicians such affliction!
