The red ants, with innocent, bulging eyes,
Scampering over the fluffy cloud,
Biting away the peace.
A pinch she felt,
But saw nobody around,
Pulling her heartstrings,
Scooping away the whole.
A bluish burn, she sensed,
Pouring through her future,
She stood there, helpless.
Imbalanced. Off-center.
Tried to win over her grimace,
Tried to find Godliness,
Tried to feign ignorance.
The farce, of Destiny won her over.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
In a world of extremeties,
I seem to be stuck in the middle.
I do not comprehend,
The yin or the yang,
When the heart, is left oblivious.
Moderation, has been an adventure,
Success, a distant season,
Excellence, an unattainable past,
Worthiness, lost in a crowd.
A mundane existence seems just that,
The paltry accounts even more so,
The spirit seems lost, trampled,
With the seemingly pointless strive, thrive?
Maybe Adam and Eve stole,
All the debuting thunder,
While Jane and Joe were left wondering,
If their existence was only to glorify,
The extremities and burden themselves,
With the painstaking eternal return.
Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC