quarta-feira, 4 de outubro de 2017

Close to the ideal that came to be
Slide right through, crack widen and echo
Those voices that acomplish disinfection
An amputee needs no apt serum
Or a call for arms, those that he no longer has
Upwards then, the colour of the green monster
is my conception yellow under the Sun?

Beneath my doormat
Blocked by dirt and despair
A trace of a hole that needs digging
Unfinished issue to be serialized
By deeper abstract thought, an oversight
In front of me

The enchantment ran it's due course
the track lingers beyond the horizon
and I sure came pacing backwards
Inevitablely caged within the idea
Introduced to the phenomena of wonderlust
I originated from established demonstrative drama
Speech, a certain kind of truth bursting flat out
From my chest to the left, all that is left
Could be either rage or sin
In equal measures, excited to exist, ahha
I might care to await maturity
To equate infinity with artillery
But youth is chained to a binding search
For heartbreak, qualms of the soul and
Generaly speaking
Resolutions to come anew once old
Grey and at once grim
Owned to those carried within
That could not attend this day
In hopes that
Hope molds as wax
And mends my rocky boat
To a lively port









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