This amazing architecture of allure; awe-some

to behold , from beneath bed upon beautiful bed

of clouds, cotton-white, concrete-gray and crow-black,

this dangerous density diligently damning my dainty

existence; ever eliciting earnest

and fevered fallacies of false pride to be fatally felled by

this gigantic gale-mother, these gods of galactic proportions.

Hold me, as I help myself hallucinate about heaven in hell,

Innately inundating my lost innocence with it.

Joyously joining in jovially joking about our jubilation in,

Killing our Kudis and our Khaleesis in keeping with,

Our love of labeling lust as love and losing ourselves to,

Mankind's madness for maleficence. We manipulate

our naive needs into necessities, neutralizing all notions

Of obscenity, Obese in our omissions.

Petulantly, we punish any probability of penance or pity.

We will soon quiver and quake, while quail will fly in this beautiful quag,

Resting reluctantly and resisting the requiem of the realm,

That holds a sad semblance of the sky's seas.

Traveler, your traveling is less than trash if you haven't traced

This ubiquitous umbrella; untouched and untainted

By the viscous vice that voraciously vitiates the viscera.

Wait, weary world look up to the place that no words can describe,

To the heavenly xystus that acts as a xylophonic xylem to our xerical and xeroxed dreams.

Yearn traveler yearn, for your eyes to look yonder forever,

To feel the zigzagging zephyrs that witnessed every zenith of history, from Zoas to Zebras.