Astonishment,
Admonishment,

Quivering lies through the eyes of arrogance doubt.

Fancy hearing the turbid tones of truth as the skies fall upon….you.

Yet you blame.

Shame for shame, playing your endless games.

Ill-guided moresence proves the downfall of all,
Your ill-fated squalor talks more than you know.

Yet your speech is mute to yourn.

Baited falter,
Caught in your own web.

I will listen to yours no longer.

Today,
I stay and reflect.
Like the mirrors floating on a pond, wandering in focus.

At times I am hopeless, distraught, and dazed, pondering.

I'll stop you there, you sad, beaten man.
Do you feel the seas trod upon you, drown you and let you swim further, and further just to regret, forget why you even began?

The shining at the deepest depths is merely a mirror to self-reflect,
to pay respects to what you wish you were.

Did you forget why you're here? Because, in truth, I never forget what I never knew,
why the sky feels the need to fall in disrespect, all upon your war-torn shoulders,
buckling under that very sigh you set free when you realized you're the traitor here, as you just get colder.

varied sighs sing you lies of peace,
poor Icarus, he tried to fly, to plead the sun, to chase infinity.

Do you truly seek peace? You try to run yet create your own inevitabilities, seized by your own dreams. With these ****** knees you've built yourself. Scorned by warnings of your self fulfilling prophecies.

You said so yourself.

First,
find what you need,
then perhaps your ever elusive peace may come,
and bring you to your knees,
to drown in seas of relief.
The war is not over,
Just another day.

Write the word
   No need to rhyme.

This is my home,
Please take a seat and have a cup of tea.

Sometimes the words flow like honey,
So sweet and lovely.

The ink is my solace from this mind,
   However mostly healed,

   However...

Spill the peace upon the pages.
  My pen is my heart,
With black ink blood..

Please sit with me a while longer.
Speak a toast to the everlasting sonders of this beautiful life we live,
This sacred space of ours.

My mind is restless.

Invested in which what wherever I breathe,
   Philosophy.

Once I awaken,
I will truly enjoy this place and times therein,
Until then,

Please come again.

Stay the waves of doubt,
  Away from the endless days,
   Of famine and drought.

The helpless mind may wander,
   To short-lived slumber,
No longer to squirm and squander,
Among the days and sonders of yesterday,

But will yet stray and ponder,
   His ways to gaze in wonder,

His safe and sound,
   His pain asunder.

I've built my wall so tall such even the most relentless assault could not topple it it all.

I've planted forests on either side so long ago they have grown and now I know,

Not even where I built my wall,

Or how tall.

Distraught,
Destroyed,
Dis,
embodied.

My halls,
The walls,
my wicked falls turn'd from stone,
dissolved to nary a diffid tone thrown by ******* bones.

An amorphous form born from the aimless mourning that now has no space to face and call my own.

Telltale swarms of which I myself did warn would come,
Once and again I crumble from what once which I would succumb.

Myself. Dear. Gone.

I am,
afloat in limbo forever struck with what,
I Left only to silence my mind until once again,
I would find the cut.

...
Page 2

My totality revised,
Scratched through like the words unworthy.
Smoothed over the rough draft,
Autobiography progressive,
Nary writing another day's pages.

Stumbling across the periphery,
Escapist tendancies surface henceforth and again.
Deafened heartbeating thunderously infectious.
Caution to the wind.

Caution, in the brittle spirit of intermittent heartache.
Slanting sideways in the wind.
Battered yet standing have,

Caution. The winds of change blow away.
Strung along the periphery.
Tighter than pianostrings.
Pluck, pluck away,
And listen to my songs for,
My crescendo has yet to come