Echoing rhetoric studies the lack of action
Precipitous errors drizzle in orderly succession,
As though years in the making,
The lack of 'unkempt' moments stakes itself once more
To a wall without feeling, lost to the shrill chime of 'error'.
What trips this gentle caressing of investigation?
The urge to vehemently scratch away this leathery halt
Beckons like a drunken, burping beggar; messy, brash, guilt-ridden.
The organic oiling of a healthy breeze has reacquainted limber needs with lust
Cautionary flags bullet the sky in their vomit-like motion
Proceed with claws retracting, there's consequence lurking amidst intention.
That green meadow lives on, distortion of deeply effective safeguards - have loosened
Camouflage, made less effective in the melted heat of refracted light
The bending lens of love is carousing without regard for the footnote *beware
There seems to be a confidant hybrid, a being of 'innovation'
An Alpha heart with no weakened immunities: to life; to love; to living.
What courage is this now surfacing, that seeks to rape the cruel memories away
To not only ruffle greyed feathers, but to rip them out - to be freed from the calamity of waste.
There is no greater dilemma;
To be fucked from the negotiation of experience, and fucked a second time - through 'hope'.
I am unable to accept my plastic confinement any longer.
The gale-force wind of time-sensitivity is usurping the crown
A throne built on tinsel and spit, dug into this back that bends unnaturally lower
In the event that a definitive 'break' will set me free for the last time.
Free from the guilt of what I crave: the flight into skies exempt of reminiscent filters.
Warm energy swirls, defervescence expounds from everywhere
My quill floats in a place that I cannot yet touch
I can smell it, and sense it, even if I cannot yet see it
The strongest sense bonding me to all rights of this passage
Is the mellifluous chanting of sound... an intimate algorithm that flows effortlessly
Into me... Into all of me... quietly, and without threat of any kind.
A lullaby of intuition that lays me down each night, with care enough to last the Ages...
Precipitous errors drizzle in orderly succession,
As though years in the making,
The lack of 'unkempt' moments stakes itself once more
To a wall without feeling, lost to the shrill chime of 'error'.
What trips this gentle caressing of investigation?
The urge to vehemently scratch away this leathery halt
Beckons like a drunken, burping beggar; messy, brash, guilt-ridden.
The organic oiling of a healthy breeze has reacquainted limber needs with lust
Cautionary flags bullet the sky in their vomit-like motion
Proceed with claws retracting, there's consequence lurking amidst intention.
That green meadow lives on, distortion of deeply effective safeguards - have loosened
Camouflage, made less effective in the melted heat of refracted light
The bending lens of love is carousing without regard for the footnote *beware
There seems to be a confidant hybrid, a being of 'innovation'
An Alpha heart with no weakened immunities: to life; to love; to living.
What courage is this now surfacing, that seeks to rape the cruel memories away
To not only ruffle greyed feathers, but to rip them out - to be freed from the calamity of waste.
There is no greater dilemma;
To be fucked from the negotiation of experience, and fucked a second time - through 'hope'.
I am unable to accept my plastic confinement any longer.
The gale-force wind of time-sensitivity is usurping the crown
A throne built on tinsel and spit, dug into this back that bends unnaturally lower
In the event that a definitive 'break' will set me free for the last time.
Free from the guilt of what I crave: the flight into skies exempt of reminiscent filters.
Warm energy swirls, defervescence expounds from everywhere
My quill floats in a place that I cannot yet touch
I can smell it, and sense it, even if I cannot yet see it
The strongest sense bonding me to all rights of this passage
Is the mellifluous chanting of sound... an intimate algorithm that flows effortlessly
Into me... Into all of me... quietly, and without threat of any kind.
A lullaby of intuition that lays me down each night, with care enough to last the Ages...
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