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Today is swaddled in yesteryear. Left in the iron cradle alone. Arise from repose, with stale mind The morrow tarnished by dreams. Pouring regret over my cereal I take a spoonful so I stand in place. There is no ideation, alas, also no striving. The world's hue has faded from my eyes. The blue iris around a sea of dreams, Now is light ash around charcoal. A type of purgatory, so I burn in my sins. I think back to the lighthouse on the shore Wistfully, wonderfully, beacon bright. When the mind and heart made harmony And angels proclaimed majesty on high. The anchor was heralded by the mind, Keeping the voyaging vessel docked at bay. An anchor for my soul, yet naught of the heart. Heart found not the Dutchman, but Jolly Roger Slipping and setting sail, the mind melded not. So now here. Each following breath is waning. If only...
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC
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Today is swaddled in yesteryear. Left in the iron cradle alone. Arise from repose, with stale mind The morrow tarnished by dreams. Pouring regret over my cereal I take a spoonful so I stand in place. There is no ideation, alas, also no striving. The world's hue has faded from my eyes. The blue iris around a sea of dreams, Now is light ash around charcoal. A type of purgatory, so I burn in my sins. I think back to the lighthouse on the shore Wistfully, wonderfully, beacon bright. When the mind and heart made harmony And angels proclaimed majesty on high. The anchor was heralded by the mind, Keeping the voyaging vessel docked at bay. An anchor for my soul, yet naught of the heart. Heart found not the Dutchman, but Jolly Roger Slipping and setting sail, the mind melded not. So now here. Each following breath is waning. If only...
Written May 5, 2020 @ 10:14 AM EDT.
gary-w-weasel-jr-1
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC
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