Complaisance

I’m looking for zoneships, alive this angst, as worried about life; where it couldn’t be real, this internal grind, as to hear for whispers: the strength of such diamonds, the roads of shadows, that lion so close to home; as to love this swan, gilted in turmoil, this smile of demons. I shift and drown, that further the lines, as one accused of trespass.  I harp and smile, to reckon such glory, opposed to quicksand; as living confused, to wrestle each thought, a landmine of heartbeats…

but more to love, this infernal tear, where life appears gray: that blossom of dreams, that inner kiss, as alive this feral woman; to haunt for motion, this late night soulquake, the heart as segue.

Let the mind be gentle, this furious prayer, as carved in soulgraves; for searching this life, infused by chaos, a slave of the status quo; to die so young, adrift a firestorm, as dearly explosive. It couldn’t be life, to yearn so deeply, the happiness of being a grave; as acting for normal, and striving this passion, torn by controlled actions; where tears are crucial, the essence of breaking-points, to nearly assess soulmirrors.

We’re so removed, as typing a blank novel, as accused and passive; this living of corners, this small opinion, to take it as truth. I long the conscious breath, where death is challenged, and the free war for freedom; so born to live, such glory to die, as one trekking heaven’s brain; for the pain is dire, the violence is lethal, and hell has embedded life.