Tomorrow's rush of craziness
leaves today's feeling sane.
We face the repetitive waves-
Thus, is this our day?
We all find ourselves along these roads-
the mental shorelines of time.
Behold our subtle conscience,
our infiltration of rhyme.
For the early morning's majesty
will wake the setting sun
and while the clouds will blanket the moon
I know we all are one.
The laughter, the love and the high-
Our cries filled with tears lost of joy-
These are words from another place-
Truth's beauty whose thoughts could employ.
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 8:31 AM UTC
Tomorrow's rush of craziness
leaves today's feeling sane.
We face the repetitive waves-
Thus, is this our day?
We all find ourselves along these roads-
the mental shorelines of time.
Behold our subtle conscience,
our infiltration of rhyme.
For the early morning's majesty
will wake the setting sun
and while the clouds will blanket the moon
I know we all are one.
The laughter, the love and the high-
Our cries filled with tears lost of joy-
These are words from another place-
Truth's beauty whose thoughts could employ.
One day, I was digging on the complications and absurdities of everyday life. Meticulous insight like second nature knew to build the foundation for the eclectic ambush of otherworldy thought as I sat upon the sands of a familiar beach, contemplating its waves. For an instance, as fleeting as the momentous ingenuity of a taken snapshot, I came to know myself as a scattered seed of knowledgeable indifference
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