cars like comets roar past the external edges of my solitary universe while the circling bands of introspection and selfishness obscure my point of view the cold stone steps bring steadfastness and strength while peaceful acceptance governs my mind. living in the present brings presence and power the grass is cool green and soft with dew
shut down/falling through the best laid plans of prophets and poets bear bitter black fruits rotten from the core to shining silver lining; while the few remaining consequences mean little to those without a conscience consequently causing catastrophic casualties of casual causality.
i do my best soul searching while cumulus colossuses ponderously trudge under the last soft fire rays of a pastel sunset with silver stars crowning the purple velvet horizon and a mirror clear view up to incandescent heavens all reminding me of just. how small. i am.
why do we feel that we must suffer for an expected amount of time in our moments of grief (a masochistic belief) before we feel like our debt is paid to the old gods of sorrow