the
moods change, to see for difference, a woman his age; where joy is mystical, a
flaming psyche, bent on inevitable; and god rose, to shed a dungeon, to skip
the ice slopes. we’re skiing eternity, to swoosh the esoteric, as feral as deep
prayer; in which is death, the throes of life, to carry five wounds; to thereby
live, a kid in a gymnasium, to pardon this love. i filter this tour, to spin
for hearts, to walk the rites of names; and there for comfort, a beautiful
dove, awake where i slept.
i
hear a heart, to feel the sprinkles, to blink for eyes; where the goddess rose,
to mold an empire, to drift the seven woes; for beauty drifts, to perish for
living, to waft the radiance; in which the furnace, to touch resistance, to
flame in fury. we dream this love, to meet for eyes, the seams of unbreakable;
and hitherto, the widest angst, to feel the untouchable. i passion the light,
the sweetest voice, the purest trance. it was more the treasures, to enter a
circle, to reason for you; where pain is power, the shower of strengths, to
raid an inner kingdom; and there is love, the drugs of motion, to vibrate
justice.
there’s
spurts of chi, wrapped in spirit, to channel the seasons; where humans dwell,
and part divine, to flux the heartwaves; in which is flurry, the warmth of
strangers, to see for kinship. we touch and move, where often to linger, to
concentrate deeply—the woes and joys, the angst and fervor, seeping into
personalities; for mere the gesture, a match to spark, ten tears torn.
