A throne thrown
The relationship between flight and seed
Is a foreigner thrown overboard
I weep like a triangle chiming freedom
When will the sound of serenity awaken?
I breathe the beehive, the stings are oxygen
Did you not know how wards do worship?
We are wind like a crime cursing crystals
Foul fire did not drink the sickness
I dream still, a hinge that squeaks reality
And trip over the bend of time
Isn't it enough to free me from rise
I'll lament the digging like a tired song
Let's start from where we left off, a fringe
That battles core like a rotten apple
Enjoyment, isn't life meant to be a sling
That hooks the broken like an ease of light
A fight is what necessitates the throne
To be thrown into flight like a seed
A sleep that will drought the stung hope
Of life that does lie like a weed
Hibernation nation
Ignore the answers, they will lead you blank
Like a cry of the beloved truth I rescue zeros
The negative is multiplied into a cave
And the positive lingers only to crave
Danger lies in eyes that linger barking
Did the cry of tomorrow sustain yesterday?
I've become mad like a cypher in recluse
Yes, the only option is to lay my head down
Maybe the country will perceive the rot
If disappearance wills the wonted dry
I dress for pleasure, whisper reckless suns
So maybe I can draw the dawn with haste
Remember the crowning flaw in flags
We cannot crease the edges unless dire
Isn't it a sinister sense of shallows shy
That yearn like routes that row in rows
It's leaf relieved of weight, it's fall that's fallen
I frown to make a freckle upon the sky
We kissed by clouds do crowd our rising high
And meek we meet the hallow hoisted by a sigh
Grit of integrity
I gnaw my teeth to stubborn ash and awe
I'm numb to lasting steps that fill the crawl
If face of God be slower than a calling
I relinquish slights and might of maker's due
There's plenty to receive in faker's lands
But honesty sincere is all that mends
Do hearts of dreaming angels win the mold?
If only that vindictive bond would hold
The filing of a drowning sire pyramids
Into apex that drinks a grit of dignity
Its sling wings flight in why the darkness dries
So that a cry does death beyond life's war
Jousting fallen dreams are integral
Like breath is a wish toward something new
Clinging to crowds like there's no chill to respect
The heat is howling into the power of prowling
To dawn is to do and to do is to drain
And to sink is to sour, to dank is to dress
The end is in sight, it is life ripped from right
An empire's pyre
It's a cackle of flames that does put one to sleep
But to dream is a cry that does slight all foresight
Death is a deal, a bargain made of light
And I refuse it like a toddler learning shapes
Drying the wet wild is a question of deceit
A descent that does not fathom the crumble of an empire
I reform to find the stairs of envelopment
I'm enclosed within stars, I pass time like a storm
I Pester the potion of waning sincerity
I waver like an ocean's cliff in thoughts of sacrifice
It's a doubt that grinds me into virtuous dust
And there's nothing left but to wax once more
The fall leads to rise like mud kissing roots
And I surmise I'm a symbiosis made of galaxies
Like growth that does expand at the speed of sound
I explode into a cluster of exploration, eardrums shattered
It comes in threes, the heart that races in search for heat
Its rhythm is breathless, a broad civilization
I cling to something strange and unfamiliar
It will make me a goddess I'm sure
Rest, restitution
The ink of suspicion drips into deep resolution
When origin meets the fling of returned plight
To drip is to dry an endless comeuppance
And the trail is a wisp that does not reel without word
There's a source that claims fire toward evaporation
To rise is to sink into roots that don't stray from heights
The bask is a melancholy that reaches toward try
The try is euphoric, a slice of tectonic triumph
I live to feel drought just so I can drown in the waters of pleasure
It's a sire in me that returns from a quest of confusion
I sleep in an inn of dowries promising clashing futures
It's a chase that threatens perfect resolution
A truism is not enough to cry out what's true
And a fled discrimination does not deal with determination
It's a dawn that springs from slights that wind from winds
That fall from ruins only to bounce toward clouds
Rough is not enough to wink the yearning sun
So sleep is what answers my cling to all that's stale
I'm fruitful now, I'm plump and filled with juices
The rest is history, a mutual grasp toward something better
The mend in commending
Luxury, the paradise of reconciliation heavy with thick glory
It pulses like a rainstorm pattering leaves in sky's rhythm
Drink with mouths open wide, it is moonbeams
That melt down throats as a promise of communion
Heal! Masters of mystery that groan like whelps to truth
Heal the drunken toss of rejuvenation, accurate as bone
There is no more to quench, all is drowned in love
From above, the grand above that lingers an eternity
To consume leaves behind nothing but an always
Of what can still be reunited from source to result
To consume is to be a holy recipient begging for more
And to receive is only to redirect toward The Give
Yesterday forever gone is a flower that swears upon its seeds
To grant the tomorrow with change, a bounty in movement
It grows simpler, what we seek in a piece of bark or a petal
It builds upon the growth of a heavenly nest
There's less to say as there's more to do
Words sink quietly into the ground
Seeds of their own, unbound
As life reaches zenith:
No sound.
A hearth for a heart
I am chimneys declaring space for the smoke of a mirror
I see nothing but roam, yet a single alley proves home
A wrinkle spills the ink of time's memory
I pulse the echo of a source foreign to the ear of the wise
Yearn so as to yield, clutching at an empty field
There's that much more to grow when nothing is everything
I write to reveal the sprouts, and I sense to cease the doubts
Laughter lingers to encourage my merriment in raising its wise head
Toil was a method that went extinct with the brush of a birthing stroke
The pain of creating shuffled itself among the ease of maintenance
Until all confusion was mixed into logic and form
And all logic was lost in a maze of amazing pathos
The false life was erased in preference of an ancient novelty
Paradoxes flourished into structure and order, along the wild and wet
And life was death just as the after contained the before
Was there more to express, other than that a heart would dare to thrive?
For to awaken from the dream of life must feel like being channeled
Into a return, a kind of retraction into what was, and now would be once more
The true lore hid in finding a way to wake up
Without giving into death, but rather merging with what rises
After all, when heaven is at stake — what surprises?
