t'was way beyond the pier
that a tune she did hear
serenading her ears
luring sounds that turned gears
she came braving her fears

melodies of folklore
though more than metaphor
pace low beside field crops
hail high over treetops
and between their long legs

words of gradual grace
dance to timbre in jest
to disturb silent rest
with chords as bright as light
and words as dark as night

she walked along the shore
until she stood before
fingers forming a bridge
pulling her deep within
between the broken ridge

calls of the canary
walk the tributary
under the sky's red eye
bathed in its scarlet light
within the black twilight

observing closer now
golden pieces of art
pierced the walls of her heart
luminescent light shows
complete at midnight's close

Inasmuch I had found confort
within a self unbeknown,
inasmuch I had found peace
within solitude of reality,
I sought objective truth above all
to cure mine ailing curiosity.
Be it I suffer more tomorrow.
Be it mine eyes see darkness
in the light of truth.

I have discovered the device of mine own undoing mayhaps.
For under further introspection,
the reality of the self has become falsified.

The belief of joy as divine?
A mere chemical addiction.
The concept of deity?
A mere pretense of faith.
The mechanics of value dissected,
exposing their arbitrary innards.

For more unwelcome as it may be,
ironic at its purest, the deeper I dig,
the more grave it comes to be.
The more literality I come to accept,
the less literate I come to be.

Washing off all purity
after affirming my sins,
my being becomes one with nature;
realizing the amoral animal within.
Within...
Albeit a minor change animate.
Albeit a subtle suggestion of expression,
or so I had thought.


Now stripped internally
of the faulty concepts:
of the subjective meaning,
of the unobtainable purpose,
of the illusionary empathy,
of the misguided sympathy--
Constructs now ****** and broken for their purpose within.
Constructs antagonized for their naughtness without.


Naught of important significance.
Culling of transcendent thought
unto an impulsive materialism.
nothing more than what is observed
shall be of any use to me.
I am enlightened.

And the price of this enlightenment?...

Only my soul.

I am the mountainous tortoise
with a shell made of dreams
and tears of falling sands
mine eyes orbit my head
through clouds composed of countless thoughts
teetering to and fro on their paths
in and out of sight

ethereal winds carrying them past
cascading along my back
they lie in trails
leaving wakes of fantastical debris

the impressions of my gait birth canyons
whilst my footsteps impress the ground in craters

water precipitates the land under me
as I crack the sky
rising with my breadth on high

in day the heavens fold under my weight
bending the starlight around me by night
it frames my periphery
like a prismatic halo
as I merge into the the horizon
with colors pulsing to the beat of incandescent waves

I found myself
walking a route
of euphoria
following the trail of rapture
tailing a sentiment
that I had hoped
would last forever

then you hit me;
a phantom vehicle
from the blindspot of my life
out of nowhere,
a hit and run with no warning
but for the quietude before
the impending collision

my body:
flung far from favor,
soaring for its own demise,
falling on its own crown,
turning into the earth

arms swinging forth,
grasping for something
to recompose on

not lying for want
fingers between rocks and pebbles
digging themselves into the dirt between,
grabbling gravel and grave
scratching back at the sharp pain
as I scramble for balance
my eyes,
covered in blood and blur,
are blinded by the truth refulgent overhead

commands reflected by flat faces standing over me-- beside me?
around me...
they turn me 'round myself
I lose my way
as quickly as it was found

breadth,
precious as love,
come back to me,
hold me now
deliver me from panic
and restore my sanity
from this collision of souls

my ability to see pattern
the very proof of intention
is wasted on the intimacy of inevitably:
that closely following feeling
of certain failure

it blinds my ascension
as I enter a state of grey
failed ambition

deliriously so, I trip
all to lay pressed to the floor
closer to my new destination

the sound of my chaotic beast
oh, I can hear it scratching
wanting to get in
it eats away the walls of reason
devouring its prey like a glutton
until all that is left is a space of sorrow
what became of today
never made it to morrow

fickle minded she was of things
things not yet reasoned
reasoned from ruminations of potential
potential scars that may form
form from nightmares that linger after
after ones heart has been torn
torn from the pages of infatuation
infatuation that had taken her will
will to live on with unabridged purpose
purpose that ought have brought serenity
serenity that would soothe her once burning soul
soul and vessel now worn and faded
faded and worn like the print on her favorite shirt
shirt and jeans that she'd worn
worn on the night they chanced
chanced with fancy and departed
departed with naught other words
words nor feelings left behind
behind the trails of footsteps
footsteps left in the snow
snow that carries what remains
remains of memories dear
dear now though losing
losing to the whitest storm

the blue face above
is looking hither with rage
and I stand in pause

waiting in the calm
my garden becomes a stage
for the dancing rain

beautiful lights play
in the darkest shades of grey
enshadowing day

fears have died away
and I've come outside to play
in my bravest way

the dirt of the ground
surrenders and holds me down
I stand now, a rod

reaching arms skyward
waiting for the touch of God
to strike my sins gone