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Christopher Mar 24
Blossom as the morning leads the day.
Find thy energy and stamina,
find the next step and don’t look behind.
You have the belief in thee,
even though we can never see.
From me to the world that be—
may peace and truth thrive.
As bees leave behind livelihood,
let us leave a love so true and infinite.

Bubbles will come along as the summer days return.
Suddenly, we will be filled with the audacity to dare,
we will access courage unknown to air.
For water shall always move with grace,
with least viscosity—
being easy allows room for joy’s powerful outreach.
Keeping away from the ***** and corrupted,
staying on course with the fluidity of the universe’s microwave background waves,
finding solid ground upon the humble omnipotence
of eternal springs of summer.

But once in a while,
a Buttercup shall we be.
Every once in a while,
shall our tears run free,
hidden inside in our hearts burdened—
only for the mascara to never be washed off.
Bravery through anger,
kept pure by heavenly rage.
Like Angel Michael’s flame of death upon El Diablo’s head,
her fury shall always be unfathomed,
her love shall never be tainted.
And with certain destruction—
shall Mojo Jojo scream for mercy!!!
There comes a time when we are called to be what we are, in the midst of our daily doings, to save the world.
Christopher Mar 23
they are windows into a soul,
many a time it has been adaged—
through the variety of moments,
transversing the fabric of space,
as they witness evolution’s progression,
impressing upon the hippocampus;
creating memories delving deep,
deeper, further—an obsession with distance,
to hide in one’s essence,
life’s temperamental escalations,
as a soul searches for meaning,
revealing mined, elusive absolute truth.
a little excerpt from “muted”.
Christopher Mar 23
Time knows not
the value of all that’s been.

Waves of endlessly tied moments,
rooted in their elemental truths,
whisper stories of then, now,
and the future yet to be.

You have found a home in my timeline,
your soul imprinted upon my perturbed existence.
Your humbling mind let me perceive—
what once seemed impossible,
a fantasy of astronomical measure.

Your eyes saved me.
Their gaze grants grace to others.
Your heart considers with unconditional expression,
bestowing attention with enigmatic majesty—
a Queenhood founded on love’s uncompromising reign.

Your voice takes me back,
pulls me under,
returns me to a time of unfortunates,
where suffering spoke in forgotten tongues.
It reminds me how vital re-examination is.

Your intellect—bold, unimpoverished—
permeated my faulty perceptions,
reshaping the fractures I mistook for truth.

You show the world
how to hold pain without contempt.

This is your glory.
Christopher Mar 23
it has been a while since
my little self, hidden, felt safe—
beyond comprehension’s schematic structure,
deep within, where all that is
becomes understood.
where your words are felt,
where your expressions cause a melt—
a sudden, radical acceptance.
your self-established mantle of significance…
my little self has lost its worth.

in your eyes,
it matters no more
that human I am, experiencing life
just as you do, just as it flows,
as it nears the ultimate axis—
as winds and tides, as gravity itself.
we are alike in our search for the unfathomable,
a place of serenity,
a longing for love and security.
yet, adamant you remain in your complacency.

it would have been better to die
than to endure
your unraveling, your disarranging—
how your eyes burn with disregard,
exposing your innermost self,
enticing a taste for the misunderstood.
deep within, where all that is—your little self—
remains hidden, untouched by obligation,
playing eternity’s game,
choosing to be too lazy to care.

— The End —